m 


s 


A  LITTLE  GYMNASTIC   EXERCISE. —Page  164. 


PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


BLIFKINS   THE  MARTYR: 

THE   DOMESTIC   TRIALS   OF  A   MODEL   HUSBAND. 

THE  MODERN  SYNTAX: 
DR.  SPOONER'S  EXPERIENCES  IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  DELECTABLE. 

PARTINGTON    PAPERS: 

STRIPPINGS   OF   THE   WARM   MILK   OF   HUMAN   KINDNESS. 

NEW  AND  OLD  DIPS 

FROM    AN    UNAMBITIOUS    INKSTAND. 
HUMOROUS,    ECCENTRIC,    H  XCYTHM  1C  A  i. 


BY  B.  P.  SHILLABER. 

\\ 


Ti«  not  so  deep  as  a  well,  nor  BO  wide  as  a  church-door; 
but  'tis  enough."     •>     i 


BOSTON 
LEE    AND    SHEPARD,    PUBLISHERS. 

NEW    YORK  : 

LEE,  SHEPARD,   AND  DILLINGHAM. 

1873. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872, 

BY  B.  P.  SHILLABER, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


Boston  : 
Stereotyped  by  C.  J.  Peters  &>  Son,  5  Washington  Street. 


TO 

JOHN  H,  EASTBUKN,  ESQ., 

THE  PRINTER  AND  THE  PRINTER'S  FRIEND, 

(EfjtS   3300ft, 

BY  ONE  OF  THE  CRAFT, 

IS  CORDIALLY  DEDICATED. 


rrr'f~v«>f 

MO  ro 


PUBLISHERS'  PREFACE. 


THE  great  fire  which  destroyed  the  business-por 
tion  of  Boston  spared,  for  the  benefit  of  the  world, 
a  few  sheets  of  Mrs.  Partington's  new  book,  and  the 
plates ;  upon  which  the  publishers  congratulated  them 
selves,  and  the  expectant  public  took  heart.  Ar 
rangements  were  made  to  reproduce  the  work  in 
season  for  the  holidays :  but  the  second  fire,  at  Rand, 
Avery,  &  Co.'s,  swept  away  both  sheets  and  plates ; 
and  expectations,  like  those  of  the  wicked,  were  "  cut 
off."  The  book  at  this  time  makes  a  fresh  appeal, 
trusting  that  the  interest  has  not  abated,  and  that  the 
present  issue  may  be  spared  any  more  fiery  trial  than 
the  kind  stricture  of  friends,  or  the  honest  opinions 
of  critics. 

While  contemplating  the  republication,  during  the 
icy  season  in  December,  we  received  a  visit  from  Mrs. 
Partington,  and  enjoyed  a  refreshing  season  of  wise 
importation,  that  like  dew  in  summer,  which  cheers 


6  PREFACE.  % 

and  invigorates,  gave  hope  and  promise  to  our  enter 
prise.  "  You  rise,"  we  said,  laboring  with  a  new 
idea  that  just  then  enlightened  us,  "  like  the  phoenix 
from  its  ashes."  She  turned  as  we  spoke,  and  at 
tempted  to  brush  something  from  the  skirts  of  her 
outer  garment.  "  I  don't  know  about  the  phoenix," 
she  replied ;  "  but  I  do  wish  people  that  put  ashes  on 
their  sidewalks  would  dispense  with  'em  more  judi 
cially.  I  declare,  I  felt  like  an  ambulance,  for  the 
ashes  were  as  thin  as  human  virtue,  and  I  expect  I 
am  covered  with  confusion."  We  called  her  atten 
tion  to  our  proposition  to  reprint.  "  Well,"  she 
replied,  with  the  unselfishness  that  distinguishes 
her,  while  a  gleam  from  her  spectacles  shot  like 
sunlight  around  the  room,  "I  hope  it  may  be  suc 
cessive,  and  that  the  people  may  cry  for  it  as  the 
children  used  to  for  Gen.  Sherman's  Lozenges,  and 
that  everybody  may  buy  it  for  your  sake."  Could 
any  thing  be  more  disinterested  ?  In  return  for  this, 
our  wish  is,  that  the  dame  may  be  the  gainer,  and 
never  urge  her  friends  to  give  it  the  patronage  she 
wishes  for  us ;  trusting  that,  between  us  both,  a 
large  safe  may  be  the  result. 

JANUARY,  1873. 


LUBRICATORY. 


IT  is  a  necessity,  with  ship-builders,  that,  before 
they  attempt  to  put  the  vessel  they  have  built  into 
the  water,  they  liberally  grease  the  ways,  on  which 
it  rests  in  its  cradle,  in  order  that  it  may  slide  off 
easily  into  its  "  native  element,"  as  I  have  known 
enthusiastic  reporters  term  the  Avater  in  describing  a 
launch.  Well,  an  author's  book  is  something  like 
the  ship.  It  is  a  structure  that  he  has  builded,  as 
well  as  he  knew  how,  to  sail  out  on  the  waves  of 
literature,  to  meet  with  a  fate  similar  to  that  of  the 
bark  ;  for  it  may  be  favored  with  excellent  weather, 
and  sail  over  gentle  seas,  or  be  dashed  about,  and  be 
wrecked,  even,  by  adverse  winds  and  angr}^  elements. 
Therefore  a  preparatory  lubrication  may  not  be  amiss, 
through  which  the  fabric  may  glide  down  on  its  mis 
sion  —  to  find  its  way  to  favor,  or  be  as  speedily  for 
gotten  as  may  be.  In  presenting  his  book,  the  author 
has  three  objects  in  view  :  To  offer  a  claim  for  con 
tinued  remembrance  by  his  friends ;  to  amuse  the 
reader  who  may  be  attracted  ;  to  secure  a  little  of 
that  benefit  for  which  the  best  of  people  make  books. 
The  author  makes  no  very  strong  pretence  to  ini^ 

7 


8  LUBRICATOKY. 

maculateness  in  his  book,  either  in  style  or  quality ;  he 
has  not,  as  he  conceives,  any  grand  leading  moral 
idea  in  it ;  but  he  deems  that  if  it  succeed  in  making 
the  reader  for  a  moment  forget  his  worldly  cares  and 
pains,  and  awakens  a  smile  at  eccentricities  of 
thought  or  speech,  it  will  have  done  as  much  good 
as  though  it  made  more  pretension.  No  one,  per 
haps,  who  reads  the  author's  name  will  purchase  the 
volume  with  any  expectation  of  finding  aught  be 
yond  this ;  for  though  doubtless  capable  of  writing 
books  on  abstruse  subjects,  he  is  content  to  let  the 
Bacons  of  the  age  write  them,  and  reserve  to  him 
self  the  humbler  and  more  popular  field  of  humor. 
In  his  pages,  Dr.  Spooner,  the  martyr  Blifkins,  and 
Mrs.  Partington  hold  place,  while  there  are  many 
things,  new  and  old,  that  are  submitted  in  the  form 
of  stories,  in  some  considerable  variety,  and  sketches 
and  rhythmical  efforts  that  the  author  commends. 
He  has  taken  for  his  motto,  as  being  very  fit,  the 
remark  of  Mr.  Mercutio  regarding  his  wound,  and 
satisfied  that  it  is  "  enough,"  and  will  "  serve,"  he 
leaves  his  book  in  the  hands  of  his  friends  —  and  of 
his  enemies,  likewise,  if  he  have  any,  to  bide  the 
result. 


CONTENTS. 


PAOB 

LUBRICATORY 5 

THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS: 

I.     BLIFKINS'S  SUMMER  RETREAT 12 

II.     BLIFKINS  THE  HOUSEHOLDER 22 

III.  BLIFKINS  THE  MECHANIC  .........  26 

IV.  BLIFKINS  AND  THE  CAT 29 

V,     BLIFKINS  THE  SUFFERER 35 

VI.     BLIFKINS  THE  AUTHOR ...40 

VII.     BLIFKINS  THE  COASTER     .........  46 

VIII.     BLIFKINS  THE  MOURNER 49 

IX.     BLIFKINS  SEES  KEAN  ..........  56 

X.     BLIFKINS'S  MOONLIGHT  TRIP 62 

XI.    BLIFKINS'S  SILVER  WEDDING 68 

XII.      BUFKINS   THE   BACCHANAL             .           .           * 74 

XIII.  BLIFKINS  THE  HORTICULTURIST' 77 

XIV.  BLIFKINS  THE  LINGUIST 81 

XV.    BLIFKINS'S  DOG  SAILOR-BOY 85 

XVI.     BLIFKINS  TAKES  A  STAND 92 

XVII.     BLIFKINS  THE  PATRIOT 94 

XVIII.    BLIFKINS  THE  CONSUMER 99 

XIX.    BLIFKINS  THE  RURALIST 101 

XX.     BLIFKINS'S  MIDNIGHT  CALL 108 

XXI.    BLIFKINS  THE  EXPERIMENTALIST     .       .       .       .       .       .       .  113 

THE   MODERN  SYNTAX: 

DR.  SPOONER  IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  DELECTABLE 119 

INTRODUCING  DR.  SPOONER 121 

ORACULAR  PEARLS: 

STRIPPINGS.    (WHAT  MRS.  P.  SAID) is1 

9  9 


10  CONTENTS. 

PAOB 

NEW  AND  OLD  DIPS  FROM  MY  INKSTAND: 

LES   MlSERABLES 177 

MISSION  OF  A  RARE-DONE  STEAK     •        •       •        • 189 

A  NEW  RAPE  OF  THE  LOCK      ..........  194 

THE  VERIFICATION      ............  199 

BUILDING  THE  BRIDGE        ...........  208 

A  MODEL  MAN'S  EXPERIENCES.       .........  212 

WORK  OF  THE  OLD  MASTERS    ..........  219 

GRAPE-SKINS 223 

THE  LETTER  OF  DISMISSAL 225 

MY  FRIEND'S  SECRET 235 

THE  WiFE-CuRER       ............  237 

GOUT 247 

THE  VENERABLE  SLEDGE 250 

A  HORSE-CAR  INCIDENT    ...........  256 

THE  OLD  RED  EAR 260 

EXPERIENCES  OF  A  LAMB  MAN         .........  262 

BLESS  You ! 266 

SALT-WATER  TROUT 268 

THE  POOR  BLIND  MAN 271 

MR.  SPOTGAM'S  TREAT      ...........  272 

HOME  IN  VACATION     ............  278 

DISPOSING  OF  A  CASE         ...........  280 

VAIN  REGRETS     .............  282 

EXTRACT  FROM  AN  UNWRITTEN  ROMANCE     .......  284 

TRUE  FAITH 286 

A  BIT  OF  OBITUARY  ............  288 

A  COUNTRY  RAINY  DAY    ............  290 

SIDEWALK  OPERA 293 

MY  FIRST  FUDDLE      ............  296 

SAN  GAREE'S  RIDE 302 

THE  VICTIM  OF  INVITATIONS .  304 

THE  GREEN  GOOSE 308 

MISSING 311 

MIGRATORY  BONES      ............  327 

A  NEW  YEAR'S  REVERY 330 

MY  FAMILY  ..............  346 

DRUMMING 355 

PREACHING  TO  THE  POOR 358 

THE  COURTS        .............  359 


PARTINGTONIAN    PATCHWORK, 


THE  BLIEKINS  PAPEES. 

THOMAS  MOORE,  in  a  note  to  one  of  his  satirical  songs, 
wherein  he  alludes  disparagingly  to  the  marriage  state, 
repudiates  the  sentiment  of  his  Muse,  and  declares  himself 
the  happiest  of  men  in  the  relation  which  he  affects  to  de 
ride.  In  these  papers  there  may  appear  a  degree  of  levity 
where  they  touch  upon  the  domestic  relations  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Blifkins,  and  some  may  see  an  invidious  rule,  for 
general  application,  in  the  little  acerbities  depicted,  that 
are,  however,  merely  the  momentary  obscurations  of  the 
sun,  rather  than  the  blotting  of  it  out  entirely  —  like  those 
shadows  that  flit  above  a  pleasant  landscape  in  summer, 
rendering  the  scene  more  bright  because  of  the  interrup 
tion.  It  wouldn't  be  a  blessing  to  have  it  fair  weather  all 
the  time,  in  a  meteorological  point  of  view,  and  in  matri 
mony,  the  acid,  though  antagonistic  to  the  saccharine,  if 
admitted  in  slight  proportion,  makes  the  latter  more  posi 
tive,  and  'secures  keener  enjoyment.  Therefore  this  ele 
ment  in  the  Blifkins  economy  renders  the  life  of  that  esti 
mable  pair  happy,  plus.  The  eccentricities  and  fickleness 
of  Blifkins  that  will  appear  in  these  pages,  tend  measura 
bly  to  keep  the  acid  in  active  readiness,  but  they  are  really 

11 


12  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

mere  spots  upon  the  sun,  which,  while  we  speculate  upon 
them,  disappear  and  leave  his  affection  to  shine  in  un 
clouded  splendor  upon  his  own  fireside.  The  editor  of 
these  papers,  therefore,  as  he  publishes  the  idiosyncrasies 
of  his  friend,  and  lays  his  faults  open  to  criticism,  points 
to  his  virtues,  as  the  Yankee  enthusiast  pointed  out  Bun 
ker  Hill  Monument  to  an  English  visitor,  without  saying 
a  foW)  leaving  ;thelri  to  speak  for  themselves.  It  was  the 
remark  of  a  distinguished  jurist  that  every  tuh  should  stand 
.011  'it*  ii\Vii  "bottom,  and  Blifkins  must  stand  or  fall  by  the 
verdict  upon  his  own  merits.  Our  acquaintance  with  him 
began  during  the  war,  when  we  received  a  letter  from  him 
detailing  his  experience  in  country  quarters,  through  the 
reprinting  of  which  we  introduce  him  to  our  readers.  This 
we  entitle  — 


BLIFKINS'S  SUMMER  RETREAT. 

HARDSCRABBLE  VILLAGE,  September  1,  1861. 
I  CAME  here  to  enjoy  my  opium  cum  digitalis  amid 
Hardscrabble  scenery.  In  front  of  us  a  cranberry  meadow 
stretches  away  into  the  interminable  distance.  A  fine  view 
is  presented,  because  there  is  no  tree  or  bush  to  break  off 
the  prospect ;  in  the  rear  the  awful  hills  arise  in  their  sub 
lime  grandeur,  which,  the  people  here  say,  can  be  seen 
with  the  naked  eye  on  a  clear  day,  being  but  seventy-five 
miles  away.  Between  me  and  the  hills  a  fine  growth  of 
huckleberry  meets  the  desire  for  swamp  scenery,  and  on 
nights  the  song  of  the  buttermonk  and  bull-frog  gratifies 
the  primitive  musical  taste  that  delights  not  in  Strauss  and 
Chopin.  The  stage  road  runs  by  the  west  end  of  the  house, 
beyond  which  a  precipitous  hill  shuts  out  the  last  rays  of 
the  descending  sun,  that  are  called  "  unhealthy  "  by  local 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPEES.  13 

science.  The  stage  affords  an  unending  interest,  as  it 
passes  three  times  a  day  to  and  from  the  depot,  raising  a 
cloud  of  dust,  and  awakens  lively  anxiety  for  the  fate  of 
the  children  who  may  be  lying  round  loose,  and  for  the  fur- 
niturefwliich  is  sure  to  receive  a  plentiful  supply  of  the  in 
sidious  particles.  A  preventive  is  supplied,  however,  in 
closing  the  doors,  which  keeps  the  children  inside  and  the 
dust  out.  On  the  east,  beyond  a  potato  patch,  is  more 
cranberry  meadow,  and  a  small  pond  full  of  impracticable 
pond  lilies  and  mud  turtles. 

Mrs.  Blifkins  heard  of  this  place  as  one  delightfully  re 
tired,  where  board  could  be  had  cheap  ;  and  she  said  to  me 
one  day,  when  I  came  home  from  a  hard  day's  work,  —  I  had 
devoted  the  whole  day  to  collecting  a  bill  of  three  dollars,  — 

"  Mr.  Blifkins,  the  Joneses  have  gone  into  the  country." 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  said  I,  "  I  cannot  conceive  how  that 
concerns  us  in  any  way." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not,"  said  that  charming  woman,  rather 
sharply ;  "  it  doesn't  concern  us  at  all  —  Oh,  no  !  and  it 
doesn't  concern  us,  nor  the  children  either,  I  suppose,  that 
this  hot  weather  is  making  us  miserable  here,  or  that  the 
vacation  is  passing  with  no  recreation  for  the  little  dears. 
It  doesn't  concern  us  at  all  —  Oh,  no  !  " 

"  But  the  Joneses  are  able,"  I  said ;  "  Mr.  Jones  has  just 
got  a  large  contract  for  furnishing  clothes-pins  for  the 
army,  and  is  in  first-rate  business  besides.  A  trip  to  Sara 
toga  or  the  White  Mountains  would  ruin  me." 

She  saw,  blessed  woman,  where  the  shoe  pinched,  and 
came  at  once  to  my  relief  and  her  own  triumph. 

" Blifkins,"  said  she,  "don't  be  ridiculous;  how  many 
more  times  do  you  want  me  to  tell  you  so  ?  Who  wanted 
to  go  to  Saratoga  ?  But  you  are  always  jumping  at  con 
clusions  from  the  most  absurd  premises.  I  have  a  trip  to 
the  country  in  my  mind,  where  we  can  rusticate  for  a  fort- 


14  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

night,  and  come  back  healthy  and  strong,  from  pure  air 
and  wholesome  food.  I  have  just  the  place  in  my  eye." 

"  Is  it  painful  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  That's  just  the  way  with  you,"  she  said.  "  I  never  say 
a  thing  that  you  don't  make  light  of  it.  Oh,  go  on,  and 
laugh  !  my  feelings  are  of  no  consequence." 

"  My  dear,"  said  I,  penitently,  "  pardon  me.  I  am  now 
all  attention,  from  the  crown  of  my  head  to  the  sole  of  my 
feet.  Drive  on." 

This  "  drive  on  "  expression  is  a  favorite  with  me,  be* 
cause  I  am  naturally  of  a jockeylar  turn. 

She  then  told  me  that  an  old  friend  of  the  family,  Polly 
Simonds  by  name,  had  married  a  well-to-do  farmer  in 
Hardscrabble,  and  that  Polly's  sister  had  that  afternoon 
called  to  inform  her  that  Mrs.  Doolittle  —  the  Polly  afore 
said  —  would  take  a  few  boarders  at  one  dollar  per  week, 
provided  that  the  family  were  not  to  be  "  put  out  any/' 
but  take  such  food  as  they  indulged  in,  and  be,  in  fact,  as 
members  of  the  family. 

"Now  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Blifkins,  tapering  off  her 
story  with  an  emphatic  period,  "  that  Polly  is  a  good  soul, 
and  she  knows  what  good  living  is,  too,  and  her  sister  says 
she  is  so  nicely  situated ;  and,  Blifkins,  we  can't  do  better 
than  shut  up  the  house  and  go  and  enjoy  a  week  in  the 
country.  Poor  little  Bub  looks  very  spindling,  and  Me- 
linda  Ann  is  a  mere  shadder.  It  makes  my  heart  ache  to 
look  at  them." 

"  Not  another  word,"  said  I ;  "your  logic  is  forcible,  your 
reasoning  unanswerable.  But  hold*on  a  bit.  Smith's  note 
must  be  attended  to  the  first  of  next  week,  and  I  have  an 
engagement  for  Thursday.  Now,  if  you  can  trust  your  de 
voted  Blifkins  till  Friday,  —  a  week  from  to-day,  —  and 
go  on  yourself  with  the  children,  I  will  rejoin  you  at  that 
time." 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPEES.  15 

She  thought  it  over,  apparently  meditating  all  the  chances, 
when  she  brightened  up  and  said,  as  Rebekah  said  to  the 
servant  of  Abraham,  "  I'll  go."  I  had  a  letter  from  her,  tell 
ing  me  of  her  arrival ;  but  it  was  very  brief.  I  got  ready, 
and  the  next  Thursday  saw  me  on  my  way  to  Hard- 
scrabble. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  to  Hardscrabble  Taown  Haouse  or 
to  Deulittle's  Misery  ?  "  asked  the  driver  of  the  conveyance 
labelled  "Hardscrabble  Stage/7  at  the  depot.  It  was  a 
cast-off  omnibus,  of  the  "  Governor  Brooks "  pattern,  that 
had  done  duty  in  the  city  in  former  years,  and  was  in  the 
last  stage  of  dilapidation. 

"  I  don't  know,"  I  said,  affecting  pleasantness.  "  I  want 
to  find  a  man  called  Derastus  Doolittle,  who  resides  in 
these  parts,  and  you'll  do  much  for  Doolittle,  if  you  will 
take  me  to  his  pleasant  mansion." 

I  wondered  to  myself  if  "Doolittle's  .Misery "  could  be 
the  place  of  rest  that  was  to  recuperate  our  enervated 
powers,  and  felt  assured  that  it  was,  a  moment  thereafter, 
by  hearing  a  fat-looking  man,  with  a  surly  face,  say, — 

"  Yas,  that's  it ;  the're  'specting  somebody  from  daowii 
below.  Drop  him  at  Misery. " 

"Well,"  I  thought,  "this  is  a  cheerful  prospect.  Here  I 
have  run  away  from  tribulation  to  find  an  abiding-place  in 
Misery.  How  much  I  have  made  by  the  operation  remains 
to  be  seen." 

After  a  jolting  ride  of  about  five  miles,  the  only  passen 
ger  in  the  old  omnibus,  the  wheels  screeching  and  scream 
ing  as  though  they  were  fiends  laughing  at  and  deriding 
me,  the  vehicle  came  to  a  stand  still,  and  I  was  told  that 
this  was  the  Misery.  There  was  no  sign  of  a  house  in 
sight,  and,  upon  asking  the  driver  where  Mr.  Doolittle 
lived,  he  said,  — 

"  Half  a  dollar,  squire,"  holding  out  his  hand  j  "  take  that 


16  f    PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

'ere  path — thankee  —  that  runs  down  by  the  harn  yen- 
der,  and  that'll  lead  you  into  the  old  stage  road  that  goes 
right  by  his  house.  'Taint  mor'n  a  mile  there." 

lie  left  me  at  this,  standing  in  »the  road,  with  my  car 
pet-bag  in  my  hand.  The  sun  was  well  nigh  down,  and 
the  long  shadows  were  stretching  away  out  over  the  land 
scape.  And  this  was  Misery.  I  had  but  one  thing  to  do 
—  follow  the  man's  directions,  which  I  did.  Arriving  at 
the  old  stage  road,  I  felt  that  it  was  all  right,  and  trudged 
on  like  a  volunteer.  By  and  by  two  hogs,  quietly  reposing 
beneath  a  broken  hay-cart  by  the  wayside,  and  a  crowd  of 
turkeys  roosting  on  a  fence  near  by  and  on  the  trees  over 
head,  assured  me  of  my  approach  to  a  farmhouse,  and  step 
ping  towards  a  very  rickety  looking  gate,  I  was  about 
entering  to  inquire  for  Doolittle,  when  a  dog  came  at  me 
furiously,  which  made  me  beat  a  hasty  retreat.  I  heard  a 
mustering  of  somebody  inside,  and  immediately  afterwards 
I  heard  the  dog  yelp  as  if  kicked,  and  a  man's  voice  say., 
"Git  aout!" 

"  Can  you  tell  me,"  said  I,  timidly  drawing  nigh  a  pair 
of  white  shirt-sleeves  that  I  saw,  amid  the  gloom,  resting 
upon  the  gate,  "  where  Derastus  Doolittle  lives  ?  " 
•  "Come  from  Boston?"  was  the  question  in  response. 

"Yes,  sir;  but  it  is  important  that  I  find  Mr.  Doolittle ; 
and  if  you  will  direct  me  "  — 

"  What's  the  latest  news  of  the  war  ?  Have  they  caught 
Jeff  Davis  yet  ?  I  tell  'em  I  don't  believe  they  ever  will 
ketch  him.  He's  a  mighty  smart  critter,  and  I  tell  'em 
so." 

a  But,  my  dear  sir,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  direct  me  to 
Doolittle's,  for  my  coat  is  thin,  and  I  am  getting  chilled  ?  " 

"  This  tax'll  be  hard  to  bear  just  naow,  but  I  s'pose  we 
must  pay  it,  —  cuss  ?em." 

I  construed  the  anathema  as  applying  to  the  rebels,  and 


DOOIJTTLE'S  MISERY. —Page  16. 


THE   BLTFKINS   PAPEKS.  17 

tliough  I  doubted  not  the  man  was  a  patriot  tried  and  true, 
I  wished  he  would  abate  enough  of  it,  for  the  sake  of  hos 
pitality,  to  tell  me  where  Derastus  Doolittle  lived. 

"Is  that  you,  Mr.  Blifkins?"  said  a  voice  coming  from 
beyond  "the  gate  on  which  the  arms  were  leaning;  and 
in  a  moment  the  arms  dropped  from  their  position,  my 
wife  rushed  at  me  with  a  ferocity  almost  equal  to  that  of 
the  dog,  and  I  received  a  volley  of  kisses  that  really  were 
refreshing,  indicating  a  return  of  feeling  that  I  had  sup 
posed  long  ago  dulled  by  domestic  care,  convincing  me, 
besides,  of  the  truth  of  the  idea  of  T.  H.  Bailey's,  that 
"  absence  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder." 

"Where  is  Doolittle's  ?  said  I,  "and  who  is  the  fellow 
that  I've  been  talking  to  ?  " 

"  That  is  he,"  she  replied,  in  a  whisper :  "  hush  !  don't 
say  a  word ;  he  is  a  queer  man,  but  he  means  well." 

Saying  this,  she  opened  the  gate  and  we  went  in.  Polly 
was  at  the  door,  and  received  me  with  the  air  of  a  sentry- 
box  on  parade,  and  was  as  rigid  as  the  big  churn  in  the 
corner,  which  she  much  resembled  in  shape.  She  wore  no 
hoops,  however,  and  the  churn  did.  She  was  about  forty, 
and  her  face  was  as  sharp  and  blue  as  faces  look  that  have 
been  running  against  a  severe  wind  in  winter.  Her  eyes 
were  small  and  cunning  gray,  her  lips  firm  and  determined, 
and  her  hair  twisted  up  on  an  old-fashioned  high-backed 
comb,  which  made  her  look  like  an  antique  picture  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  lacking  the  ruff,  though  the  rough  was 
evidently  there  in  other  guise. 

Mrs.  Blifkins  introduced  me,  and  she  deigned  me  a 
hand;  but  it  was  as  cold  as  a  toad,  and  as  expressionless 
in  its  feeling  as  a  hand  of  tobacco.  There  was  no  light  in 
the  room  we  entered,  except  a  badly-burning  tallow  can 
dle,  in  a  tin  candlestick,  which  was  eclipsed  by  Mr.  Doo 
little  in  an  effort  to  light  a  clay  pipe  by  it.  My  wife  intro- 


18  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

duced  me  to  Mr.  Doolittle,  who  made  no  reply,  but 
out  a  cloud  of  extra  smoke,  and,  a^he  deposited  the  candle 
on  the  table,  reached  out  a  hand  slippery  with  tallow,  for 
me  to  shake.  After  several  whiffs,  he  asked,  — 

"  Bring  up  any  papers  ?  " 

Handing  him  an  "  Extra,"  that  I  bought  in  the  cars,  he 
retired  to  a  corner,  where  he  monopolized  the  light,  and 
became  with  it  obscured  by  the  paper  held  before  him. 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Doolittle,"  said  I,  "  the  long  ride  and  the 
long  walk  have  provoked  my  appetite  ;  and  if  you  will  have 
the  kindness  to  give  me  a  bite  of  something,  I  will  bestow 
on  you  my  warmest  blessing." 

"There  wan't  nothing  left  over,"  said  she,  with  a  slight 
touch,  I  thought,  of  mustard  in  her  tone  j  "But  if  you'd 
like  some  milk,  you  can  hev  it." 

tl  Certainly,"  said  I ;  "  any  thing.  Your  good,  sweet  coun 
try  bread  and  new  milk  are  fit  for  a  prince.  Let's  have 
the  milk,  by  all  means." 

She  went  to  fetch  the  milk,  and  I  asked  my  wife  about 
the  children.  All  well.  Then  I  asked  how  she  was,  and 
she  said  she  was  very  well,  excepting  a  little  headache. 
"The  result,  my  dear,"  said  I,  "of  excessive  indulgence  in 
country  luxuries,  I  fear.  Prudence  should  attend  you  here 
as  well  as  at  home.  I  shall  have  to  look  after  you." 

The  re-appearance  of  Polly  silenced  the  conversation. 
She  placed  on  the  pine  table  that  stood  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor  a  small  pewter  plate,  not  very  bright,  with  a 
small  bannock  of  bread,  and  a  bowl  containing  about  a 
pint  of  milk. 

"It's  sweet  milk,  though  it's  skimmed,"  said  she;  "we 
let  the  new  milk  stand  for  cream." 

"  Excellent  economist !"  said  I,  drawing  up  to  the  table 
with  a  feeling  far  from  happy,  for  I  thought  I  detected  a 
leak  in  the  commissariat  j  and  a  lean  larder  in  a  country 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  19 

of  plenty  is  an  evil  not  to  be  endured.  Some  one  has 
said  that  we  should  always  rise  from  the  table  yet  hungry, 
and  be  sure  in  this  way  to  save  ourselves  from  the  sin  of 
gluttony.  I  certainly  was  more  hungry  when  I  arose  than 
when  Fsat  down. 

It  was  now  about  nine  o'clock ;  and,  as  I  sat  at  the 
window  admiring  the  moon  as  it  came  up  behind  a  skele 
ton  pine  in  the  distance,  Mr.  Doolittle  arose,  folded  his 
paper,  and  passed  out  of  the  room,  leaving  the  candle  on 
the  table. 

"We  all  go  to  bed  at  nine  o'clock,"  said  Mrs.  Doolittle, 
gathering  herself  up  ;  "  it's  the  rules  of  aour  haouse." 

She  stood  a  moment  to  see  if  her  shot  'had  taken  effect 
on  me.  I  felt  strongly  opposed  to  moving;  but  Mrs.  Blif- 
kins  arose  with  wonderful  humility,  I  thought,  and  bore 
me  from  the  room.  A  door  slammed,  and  then  another? 
a  few  smothered  words  came  from  a  chamber  adjoining 
that  we  were  to  occupy,  and  the  house  was  still.  Not  so 
around  the  house.  A  flock  of  geese  held  a  noisy  council 
beneath  our  window,  and  a  horse  in  an  invisible  barn  had 
the  St.  Yitus'  dance ;  a  pig  was  indulging  in  a  swinish 
soliloquy ;  a  calf,  ambitious  of  being  veal,  was  mournfully 
eloquent ;  and  the  dog,  which  had  rushed  at  me,  amused 
himself  with  a  prescription  of  bark  every  half  hour.  There 
was  no  sleep  for  my  eyes  or  slumber  for  my  eyelids  all  that 
night. 

By  daylight,  startled  from  a  cat-nap  that  had  seized  me 
in  despite  of  untoward  circumstances,  1  looked  from  the 
window,  and  saw  Doolittle  hauling  a  load  of  muck  from 
the  meadow.  A  more  uncouth  figure  I  never  saw.  Of 
course  I  didn't  expect  to  see  a  man  dressed  in  his  best 
while  hauling  muck,  and  as  certainly  I  had  never  expected 
to  see  a  man  look  so  badly.  His  properties  would  be  in 
valuable  to  an  actor  whose  role,  was  the  desperate  loafer. 


20  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

No  one  part  seemed  to  belong  to  the  other  part.  At  first 
I  thought  it  some  ponderous  scarecrow  that  had  walked 
away  from  the  field  in  a  fit  of  eccentricity,  and  was  dis 
posed  to  try  its  terrifying  properties  in  other  quarters. 
But  Doolittle's  voice,  in  pleasant  rebuke  of  the  cattle,  that 
seemed  a  little  contrary  at  being  called  so  early,  satisfied 
me  of  his  identity. 

"  Stan'  still,  cuss  ye  !  "  said  the  voice ;  and  there  was  no 
doubting  Doolittle. 

I  went  down  stairs,  and  joined  him.  He  greeted  me 
with  a  surly  "good  morning,"  and  immediately  began 
about  the  war,  taking  up  the  contents  of  the  "  Extra  "  I 
had  given  him,  which  he  had  apparently  learned  by  heart. 
I  took  advantage  of  the  first  pause,  and  ran  faster  than 
the  congressmen  from  Bull  Bun.  I  took  all  the  bearings 
of  the  landscape,  and  found  it  as  I  have  described  at  the 
outset  of  this  letter.  At  about  six  o'clock,  the  blast  of  a 
tin  horn  signified  to  me  that  breakfast  was  ready  j  and  I 
was  prepared  by  my  early  exercise  to  do  justice  to  it.  I 
was  picturing  to  raj-self  aldermanic  biscuits,  ham  and  eggs, 
sweet  butter,  creamy  cheese,  fried  trout,  new  potatoes,  a, 
bit  of  fowl,  served  up  on  a  snowy  table.  The  misgiving 
of  the  night  previous,  however,  crossed  my  mind,  I  must 
confess.  What  business  had  it  there  at  such  a  time  ?  I 
entered  the  house  to  prepare  for  breakfast,  but  found  all  at 
table,  —  wife,  children,  all,  —  including  Mr.  Doolittle  in 
his  muck  rig!  I  looked  at  Mrs.  B.  She  colored  some, 
but  said  nothing. 

"Come,  fall  to,"  said  Mr.  Doolittle.  "Folks  in  the 
country  don't  stand  on  no  ceremony.  Good  appetites  don't 
want  no  long  graces.  '  Eat  and  be  filled  '  is  our  motter." 

I  looked  along  the  board  for  that  which  was  to  fill  us. 
A  plate  of  hard-baked  corn  bread  stood  near  the  centre  of 
the  table,  flanked  on  one  side  by  a  dish  of  fried  pork 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  21 

swimming  in  fat,  on  the  other  by  a  dish  of  potatoes ;  and 
this  was  all. 

"  Lord,  what  a  wretched  land  is  this,  that  yields  us  no 
supply !  "  came  into  my  mind,  but  I  didn't  say  it. 

"  Will"  you  have  some  dip  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Doolittle. 

I  was  a  little  perplexed  to  know  what  she  meant;  but 
as  she  tipped  the  dish  with  one  hand,  and  held  a  spoon 
with  the  other,  as  if  to  bale  out  some  of  the  fat,  I  guessed 
what  it  was,  and  declined,  asking  at  the  same*  time  for  a 
little  butter.  I  found  I  had  got  my  foot  in  a  hornet's  nest. 

The  Doolittles  looked  at  each  other,  and  then  Mrs.  Doo 
little  spoke  for  both,  saying,  that  butter  was  a  cash  article 
that  they  couldn't  afford  to  indulge  in  themselves,  and 
their  boarders  were  to  be  as  "  one  of  the  family."  For  her 
part,  she  thought  pork  was  a  great  deal  more  "  healthy " 
than  butter,  and  was  sorry  I  didn't  like  their  fare.  I  could 
have  done  better,  she  dared  say,  at  the  hotel,  where  they 
charged  more. 

I  felt  humbled,  and  confess  that  I  came  down  to  "  dip," 
as  the  Israelites  came  down  to  the  pool  of  Siloam.  I  said 
no  more,  but  thought  it  would  be  made  up  at  dinner.  I 
spent  the  morning  with  my  children,  and  it  seemed  as  long 
as  three  days  in  one.  Dinner  time  came,  and  I  looked  for 
the  summons  very  eagerly.  Judge  of  my  horror  to  find 
boiled  pork  for  dinner,  with  the  addition  of  potatoes  and 
the  cold  bread !  At  supper  we  had  some  preserved  barber 
ries,  black  tea,  with  brown  sugar,  and  underdone  saleratus 
bread. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday ;  and  now,  thought  I,  there 
must  be  a  change  in  the  bill  of  fare :  then  I  can  make  up 
for  the  losses  of  yesterday.  The  breakfast  was  delayed  till 
near  eight  o'clock,  and,  when  summoned  to  it,  the  inevita 
ble  "  dip "  was  there,  and  the  corn  bread !  I  felt  that  I 
was  a  doomed  man,  and  imagined  myself  an  Edson,  a 


22  PABTINGTO3STIAN  PATCHWOEK. 

living  skeleton,  going  round  the  country,  showing  myself 
at  so  much  per  sight.  But  I  still  hoped  for  dinner.  There 
were  fowls  in  the  yard,  whose  magnificent  proportions  I 
had  marked,  and  indulged  in  anticipatory  images  of  pot- 
pies;  and,  as  I  came  from  the  church  with  Doolittle,  I 
fancied  which  of  them  had  "become  a  sacrifice  to  my  epi 
curean  taste,  rather  lamenting  his  fate.  Needless  thought. 
T  was  told  hy  Mrs.  Doolittle  that  she  always  cooked  enough 
on  Saturday  for  Sunday's  dinner ;  therefore  she  had  boiled 
double  rations  of  pork,  which  we  were  to  eat  cold.  At 
supper  we  had  the  half-baked  bread  and  the  sour  barber 
ries,  and  the  black  tea,  sweetened  with  b»own  sugar,  re 
peated. 

I  told  Mrs.  Blifkins  this  morning,  in  a  domestic  council  in 
chambers,  that  she  and  the  children  may  enjoy  this  felicity 
to  their  hearts'  content,  —  live  on  pork  till,  like  Jeshurun, 
they  wax  fat  and  kick,  or  squeal  like  pigs,  —  but  that  I 
am  no  individual  to  surrender  myself  in  this  way,  and  as 
soon  as  the  "  dip  "  is  disposed  of  this  morning,  I  shall  start 
on  an  excursion  to  Hominy  Ridge,  about  three  miles  from 
this,  where  there  is  a  hotel,  and  shall  not  come  back  to 
dinner. 

I  leave  this  letter  with  her  to  send  to  you  by  the  stage, 
as  I  haven't  got  strength  to  carry  it  to  the  post-office. 


II. 

t 

BLIFKINS  THE  HOUSEHOLDER. 

THE  situation  of  Blifkins's  house  is  a  very  singular  one, 
as,  by  some  combination  of  'circumstances,  the  snow  al 
ways  drifts  in  front  of  his  door.  His  next-door  neighbors, 
on  both  sides  of  him,  are  not  troubled  in  this  way ;  but 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  23 

when  the  snow  before  his  house  is  piled  as  high  as  his  chin, 
before  theirs  it  is  as  bare  as  one's  hand.  Let  the  wind 
blow  east,  west,  north,  or  south,  it  is  the  same.  The  com 
pass  is  not  made  that  has  a  point  to  favor  him,  so  he  says. 
It  may  be  -imagined,  in  this  state  of  things,  that  he  has 
considerable  to  do  to  keep  shovelled  off  in  a  snow-storm, 
so  that  those  gentlemen  in  blue  coats  and  bright  buttons 
shall  have  no  hold  upon  him ;  and  the  sums  that  he  has 
paid  in  dimes  for  the  performance  of  this  work  has 
amounted,  in  the  course  of  a  winter,  to  a  snug  little 
fortune,  let  us  tell  you. 

It  was  the  morning  after  a  great  snow-storm  that  Blifkins 
called  upon  us.  He  looked,  we  saw  at  a  glance,  agitated 
and  unhappy.  Seating  himself  in  our  only  spare  chair, 
and  holding  his  feet  before  our  blazing  fire  as  unconcern 
edly  as  though  the  words,  "Busy  Day  —  Short  Calls," 
'were  not  hung  outside  the  door,  he  said,  — 

"  Tough  storm  —  wasn't  it  ?" 

We  expressed  to  him  in  brief  that  we  thought  it  was, 
and  uttered  the  remark,  with  considerable  confidence,  that 
we  should  have  more  snow  before  the  winter  was  out.  He 
looked  at  us  very  seriously  a  moment,  and  then  asked,  — 

"  Do  you  have  to  shovel  off  in  front  ?  " 

"  Of  course/'  we  told  him,  "  whenever  we  have  occasion 
for  it." 

u  Yes,"  said  he,  sardonically,  "  that's  what  you  all  say, 
'  whenever  there's  occasion  for  it/*  which  implies  that  there 
may  be  storms  when  there  are  no  occasions  for  it.  With 
me,  now,  if  so  little  snow  falls  that  an  old  woman  could 
carry  it  off  in  her  apron,  there  comes  a  drift  before  my 
door  as  high  as  my  head.  Queer  —  isn't  it  ?  " 

We  made  further  inquiries,  and  learned  the  facts. 

"  I  bought  the  house  in  August,"  said  he,  "  and  not  a 
word  was  said  about  snow-drifts  j  but  the  winter  assured 


24  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

me  of  the  reason  why  the  one  I  bought  of  was  so  anxious 
to  sell.  The  drifts  arose  to  my  window-sills.  I  tried  to 
get  my  taxes  abated  last  year  on  account  of  it,  but  couldn't. 
I've  tried  to  sell  out,  but  nobody'll  buy.  Every  snow-storm 
four  policemen  stand  looking  round  the  corners  near  my 
house,  to  pounce  upon  me  in  case  I  should  fail  to  shovel 
off.  It'll  cost  me  a  fortune  to  hire  it  done." 

"  Why  don't  you  do  it  yourself  ?  "  we  asked. 

"  That's  just  what  my  wife  said,"  replied  he.  "  I  got  up 
yesterday  morning,  and,  just  as  I  expected,  there  was  the 
drift  as  high  as  my  head.  '  Mr.  Blif kins,'  said  my  wife, 
'why  don't  you  go  out,  now,  and  shovel  it  off  yourself?' 
Said  I,  in  reply,  '  Your  counsel  is  excellent,  and  I  think  I 
will.'  I  at  once  proceeded  to  prepare  myself  for  the  task  ; 
but  before  I  could  get  ready,  there  were  five  applications 
for  the  job,  and  five  refusals.  I  pulled  on  a  pair  of  long 
boots,  tied  a  comforter  round  my  ears,  and  went  out. 
i  You're  going  to  pitch  into  it,  I  see,'  said  a  voice,  as  I  be 
gan.  'Twas  one  of  the  policemen,  and  he  looked,  I  thought, 
rather  disappointed.  '  You  don't  catch  me  this  time,'  said 
I.  I  commenced  vigorously,  throwing  the  snow  aside  with 
*  heart  of  controversy.'  But  I  began  too  fast.  The  fifth 
shovelful  assured  me  that  I  had  reckoned  without  my  host ; 
and  I  was  almost  tempted  to  abandon  my  undertaking  by 
the  offer  of  a  deluding  Hibernian  gentleman,  who  insinu 
ated  that  he  might  shovel  it  '  off  for  a  quartier  of  a  dolliar.' 
But  an  incidental  remark  seemed  to  reflect  on  my  ability  to 
perform  the  task,  and  I  bade  him  depart.  '  Are  you  almost 
done  ?  '  said  my  wife  from  the  upper  window.  How  un 
reasonable  these  women  are  !  I  pitched  in,  not  deigning  a 
reply.  I  grew  very  hot,  realizing  the  philosophical  fact  of 
there  being  heat  in  snow ;  strange  I  never  noticed  it  be 
fore !  '  Don't  shovel  the  snow  against  the  house  !' said 
my  wife  from  the  upper  window.  At  that  instant  an  ava- 


BLIFKINS   AND   THE   POLICEMAN.  -  Page  24. 


THE  BLIEKINS  PAPEES.  25 

lanche  came  from  the  roof,  burying  me  in  the  snowy 
grave  I  had  just  been  digging.  e  Did  it  hurt  you  much  ? ' 
asked  my  wife  from  her  upper  point  of  observation.  I 
replied  to  her,  as  soon  as  I  could  free  myself,  that  it  did 
not,  ant!  'playfully  essayed  to  throw  a  shovelful  of  snow  at 
her.  It  fell  short  of  its  mark  ;  but  the  shovel  found  its 
way  through  three  squares*  of  my  parlor  window.  '  Save 
the  pieces  ! '  said  my  wife  in  an  ironical  tone.  I  looked 
at  my  damaged  property  with  bitterness  of  spirit.  It  oc 
curred  to  me  that  my  neighbor's  snow-shovel  was  better 
than  mine,  and  I  went  to  borrow  it.  When  I  returned,  I 
found  that  some  one  had  stolen  my  own  shovel  in  my  ab 
sence.  In  a  rage  I  smote  the  pave  with  the  borrowed 
one,  and  broke  it  short  off  in  the  handle,  with  a  remark 
that  sounded  something  like  profanity.  At  this  I  with 
drew  from  the  field,  determined  to  employ  the  first  one 
who  came  along  who  wished  to  shovel  me  out.  I  waited 
all  the  forenoon,  but  no  one  came.  It  was  wonderful  how 
the}'-  managed  to  keep  away.  In  the  afternoon  I  received 
a  summons  to  appear  before  the  police  court  by  the  hands 
of  one  of  my  watchful  policemen,  and  have  just  returned 
from  that  august  tribunal,  where  I  have  paid  three  dollars, 
without  costs.  So,  reckoning  my  labor,  the  lost  time,  the 
stolen  shovel,  the  broken  one.  the  smashed  window,  the 
three  dollars,  and  the  aggravation,  I  think  it  don't  pay." 

He  ceased,  and  looked  to  us  for  sympathy.  He  miscon 
strued  our  smile  of  pity  for  one  of  derision,  and  went  off 
as  mad  as  a  percussion  cap. 


26  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCH WOKK. 

m. 

BLIFKINS   THE   MECHANIC. 

"MR.  BLIFKINS,"  said  my  wife,  on  the  morning  of 
washing  day,*"  Bridget  complains  that  something  is  the 
matter  with  the  soft-water  pump." 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  I  replied,  —  I  am  very  careful  to  put 
in  all  the  little  tender  terms  on  washing  days,  having  found 
them  serve  admirably  as  mollifiers  at  such,  times,  —  "I 
will  see  about  it." 

I  had  not  quite  finished  reading  my  morning  paper,  and 
sat  a  moment  to  conclude  the  account  of  the  last  fearful 
casualty,  when  Bridget's  face  was  thrust  into  the  door,  as 
red  and  bright  as  an  old-fashioned  brass  warming-pan. 

"  Indade,  mem,"  said  she,  "  the  pump's  gone  again." 

"  I  wish  you  was,"  arose  to  my  lips,  but  1  didn't  speak  it. 

"  Well,"  replied  my  .wife,  "  I've  done  all  I  could  about 
it,  unless  /  am  expected  to  draw  the  box  and  fix  it.  I  ex 
pect  every  day  when  I  shall  have  to  do  such  work.  A 
woman's  life  is  hard  enough  at  the  best,  but  a  little  addi 
tional  service  would  not  hurt  her,  I  dare  say.  Perhaps,  in 
the  intervals  of  household  duties,  she  might  take  in  jobs 
of  pump-mending." 

I  said  nothing. 

"Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  my  wife,  "will  you  see  to  the 
pump  ?  " 

This  was  said  in  a  tone  that  completely  overcame  the 
horror  awakened  by  the  casualty,  and  throwing  the  paper 
aside,  I  proceeded  to  the  kitchen.  I  tried  the  handle  of 
the  pump,  and,  sure  enough,  the  water  refused  to  flow.  A 
few  drops  only  oozed  from  the  nose,  and,  as  I  plied  the 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  27 

handle,  the  pump  gave  forth  a  rumbling  sound,  as  though 
it  were  surly  in  its  refusal  to  yield  the  accustomed  supply. 

"  This  is  a  pretty  state  of  things  for  washing  day  !  "  said 
my  wife. 

"  Weljj.my  dear,"  said  I,  "I  don't  see  how  you  can  blame 
me  for  it.  '  Thou  canst  not  say  I  did  it.'  " 

I  immediately  essayed  to  take  out  the  box.  The  screws 
that  secured  the  top  were  rusty,  and  refused  to  turn. 

"  Mrs.  Blifkins,"  said  I,  "  where  is  the  hammer  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  know  where  the  hammer  is  ?  "  she  re 
plied.  "  It  is  probably  where  you  used  it  last.  You  leave 
every  thing  for  me  to  take  care  of.  My  father  used  to  say, 
'  A  place  for  every  thing  and  every  thing  in  its  place/  I 
wish  all  men  were  as  particular.'7 

I  remembered  that  I  had  used  the  hammer  to  repair  a 
chicken-coop  some  weeks  before,  and,  proceeding  to  the 
spot,  I  found  it,  rusty  and  dirty,  lying  just  where  I  had 
left  it.  A  system  like  this,  closely  followed,  would  prove 
of  immense  advantage  ;  for  a  memory  of  where  an  article 
was  used  would  immediately  suggest  the  spot  where  it 
was  to  be  found.  Returning  to  the  kitchen,  I  commenced 
work.  The  rusty  threads  of  the  screws  refused  persistent 
ly  to  yield ;  but  patience  wins ;  and  after  a  half  hour's 
sweating  and  fretting,  I  had  the  top  removed,  and  the 
pump-box  in  my  hand.  There  were  evident  signs  of  decay 
in  the  leather ;  and  bringing  my  natural  ingenuity  to  bear 
upon  it,  I  hammered,  and  tacked,  and  cut,  and  pulled,  until 
I  fancied  that  I  had  attained  perfection  in  my  effort. 

"  Mrs.  Blifkins,"  says  I,  in  my  momentary  satisfaction, 
"  can  you  tell  me  the  difference  betwixt  a  man  who  mends 
pumps  and  a  prune  ?  " 

Of  course  she  couldn't ;  and  I  told  her  that  one  was  a 
plum  and  fehe  other  was  a  plumber  ;  whereat  she  was  pleased 
to  smiie,  though,  I  thought,  rather  derisively. 


28  PARTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

"  Now  we  shall  see,"  says  I,  putting  in  the  box,  "  the 
triumph  of  genius.  Pour  in  some  water,  Bridget,  and  as 
I  pump,  you  shall  see  the  water  flow." 

I  manned  the  brakes  ;  but  in  vain  my  effort.  No  effect 
was  produced  but  the  most  painful  sound  —  a  sort  of 
asthmatic  wheezing,  like  that  of  a  porcine  quadruped  just 
expiring  under  the  effect  of  a  surgical  operation  upon  his 
neck.  My  triumph  changed,  and  my  chipper  notes  par 
took  of  a  more  tempestuous  character,  as  I  muttered  an 
expression  that  nothing  but  the  immediate  circumstances 
could  justify. 

"  That's  right,"  said  my  wife  ;  "  I  would  talk  in  that  way. 
It  will  help  the  matter,  I  dare  say,  very  much.  Men  have 
got  no  patience.  If  they  had  to  bear  as  much  as  women 
do,  I  don't  know  what  would  become  of  them." 

"I  will  bring  mechanics,"  said  I,  a  little  subdued,  "  and 
they  shall  bring  the  pump." 

I  immediately  sought  Lurnb. 

"  Send  workmen,"  said  I,  "0  man  of  lead  pipe  and  solder, 
and  mend  that  without  which  washing  day  becomes  a  Sab 
bath  without  a  sermon  —  for  what  were  washing  day  with 
out  water  ?  " 

Two  men  accompanied  me  to  my  home  —  philanthro 
pists,  with  disposition  and  ability  to  relieve  the  difficulty 
under  which  I  labored. 

"  Now,  my  boys,"  said  I,  as  I  introduced  them  to  the 
field  of  their  operations,  "  put  her  through." 

The  term  "  her  "  struck  Mrs.  Blif kins  as  irrelevant,  and 
somewhat  personal,  as  I  judged  from  her  looks.  No  ba 
rometer  could  be  more  exact  than  was  her  countenance  to 
my  experienced  vision. 

"  Look  here,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  men,  trying  the  han 
dle  ;  "  there,  ain't  nothing  the  matter  with  the  pump." 

"  Then  what  is  the  bother  with  the  infernal  thing  ?  "  I 
asked,  excitedly. 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  29 

"  The  principal  reason  is,  I  think,  sir,  that  the  cistern  has 
gin  out." 

I  looked  at  the  man  wonderingly ;  but  his  honest  eye 
convinced  me  that  he  was  sincere,  and  after  examination 
proved-the  truth  of  what  he  said.  * 

"  My  friend,"  said  I,  "  here  is  a  trifle  for  you,  and  I  will 
settle  with  Lumb.  Don't  say  any  thing  about  it.'7 

I  never  knew  how  the  matter  came  out,  but  always 
thought  Mrs.  Blifkins  must  have  told  of  it. 


IV. 

BLIFKINS  AND   THE   CAT. 

* 

"  CAKE  killed  a  cat,"  the  old  adage  runs  ;  and  Blifkins 
held  care  responsible  for  a  feline  corpus  found  in  his  front 
yard  one  morning.  His  experience  in  the  premises  being 
very  trying,  we  essay  its  impartation  as  he  told  it  to  us,  as 
nearly  in  his  own  words  as  possible.  Reader,  imagine  Blif 
kins  seated  before  you,  telling  the  following  :  — 

"  Mr.  Blifkins  !  "  cried  -my  wife  from  the  kitchen  on 
Sunda}'-  morning,  the  morning  of  all  the  week  on  which  I 
like  least  to  be  disturbed.  I  rose  on  my  elbow,  before 
answering,  and  looked  at  my  watch.  It  was  only  seven 
o'clock.  , 

"  Mr.  Blifkins  !  "  the  voice  said  again.  It  was  wonder 
ful  how  sleepy  I  was,  and  so  I  made  no  reply.  What  can 
call  her  up  so  early  ?  I  asked  myself.  It  can't  be  break 
fast  yet,  for  that's  an  eight  o'clock  matter.  I  nestled  down 
in  the  pillows  once  more,  and  stretched  myself  diagonally 
across  the  bed,  drawing  my  thousand  nerves  and  sinews 
—  more  or  less  —  out  to  their  proper  tension.  What  a 
luxury  this  is,  to  be  sure  I 

3* 


30  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Mr.  Blifkins  ! "  said  the  voice,  louder  than  before  ;  and 
immediately  after  a  severe  pinch  on  my  bare  arm  assured 
me  that  my  wife  had  come  up  stairs.  I  started  up  in  af 
fected  surprise,  and  rubbing  my  eyes  open,  asked  her  if 
that  was  a  proper  expression  of  the  regard  she  felt  for  the 
one  she  had  vowed  to  love,  cherish,  and  nourish,  and  all 
that.  She  replied  by  calling  me  a  fool,  in  her  most  win 
ning  way,  and  told  me  that  there  was  a  dead  cat  in  our 
front  yard. 

"  A  dead  cat ! "  cried  I,  tragically,  jumping  out  of  bed 
in  a  style  quite  melodramatic,  though  not  very  well  cos 
tumed. 

"  Yes,"  said  my  wife  ;  "it  is  right  under  the  window,  and 
is«as  big  as  a  cow." 

I  looked  at  her  face,  where  womanly  truth  was  wont  to 
shine,  and  repeated  her  remark,  — 

"  As  big  as  a  cow  !  " 

"  I  mean/7  said  she,  "  that  it  is  a  very  large  one"  com 
paratively.'7 

"  Oh !"  said  I,  completing  my  toilet  by  thrusting  my  right 
foot  into  my  only  slipper,  and  proceeded  down  stairs. 
There,  sure  enough,  was  one  of  the  most  monstrous  cats  I 
had  ever  seen.  It  was  old  and  very  gray,  and  there  was 
a  rigidness  in  its  form  that  seemed  to  say,  "  I've  come 
to  stay  with  you ;  "  speaking  in  dumb  show  as  plainly  as 
the  big  trunk  and  many  bandboxes  that  the  stage  drops 
at  our  door  on  anniversary  week.  I  looked  at  it  horror- 
struck. 

"  Throw  it  into  the  street,"  said  my  wife,  with  that 
promptness  which  eminently  fits  her  to  be  the  captain  of 
a  company. 

"  Can't  do  it,  my  love,"  said  I;  "  for  I  should  render  my 
self  liable  by  so  doing ;  if  not  to  the  law,  at  least  to  my 
own  conscience ;  for  why  should  I  offend  the  sight  of  my 
neighbors  by  the  unseemly  thing  ?  " 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  31 

"  Bury  it  in  the  yard,"  said  my  wife. 

Now,  considering  that  she  has  got  every  inch  of  our  ter 
ritory  so  closely  planted  with  flowers  that  one  can,  in  the 
season  of  them,  measure  odor  and  bloom  by  the  cubic  inch, 
that  was"  impossible.  I  told  her  so. 

"I  do  wish,  Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  my  wife,  "that  you  had 
a  little  more  energy ;  you  are  not  nearly  so  smart  as  you 
were  twenty  years  ago." 

"True,  my  love,'7  replied  I;  "and  in  this  respect  there 
is  a  great  difference  between  you  and  I,  for  I  think  your 
smartness  has  increased."  I  meant  it  for  irony,  but  she 
took  it  as  a  compliment,  and  smiled  upon  me  with  that 
heavenly  expression  which  resembles  somewhat  a  slumber 
ing  hurricane. 

"  Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  my  wife,  "  throw  it  on  the  vacant 
lot  round  the  corner." 

"  What !  "  replied  I,  "  and  poison  the  air  of  my  neigh 
bors  ?  Never." 

"  What's  the  row  ?  "  said  my  friend  Wagg,  going  by. 

I  told  him  in  a  few  words  my  difficulty,  to  which  my 
wife  added  a  few  soothing  remarks  of  her  own  about 
"  stupid  husbands  "  and  "  never  knowing  how  to  do  any 
thing." 

"  I'll  tell  you  how  to  get  rid  of  it,"  he  said ;  "  draw  it 
away." 

"  Draw  it  ?  "  I  queried. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  poking  me  under  the  ribs ;  "  draw  it 
away  with  a  cataplasm." 

He  passed  along  laughing.  My  wife  likewise  indulged 
in  a  little  cachinnation  at  my  expense,  which  quite  over 
turned  my  little  remaining  resolution. 

"  This  morning  air  is  too  much  for  you,  my  dear,"  said 
I ;  "  you  had  better  retire  to  the  house,  and  if  you  wish 
to  take  further  part  in  the  inquest,  I'll  bring  the  carrion  in." 


32  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

She  saw  that  I  was  moved,  and  went. 

There  are,  I  know  by  actual  count,  a  thousand  boys  in 
our  neighborhood.  My  peace  by  day  and  night  is  dis 
turbed  by  them.  Their  whistling  and  howling  awake  me 
the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  and  I  am  kept  awake  by 
them  till  late  in  the  night. 

"  Eureka!  "  said  I,  slapping  my  knee  ;  "  I'll  have  a  boy." 

I  don't  know  what  my  wife,  who  was  surveying  the 
scene  from  ail  upper  window,  thought  of  the  remark ;  but 
she  drew  in  her  head  suddenly,  like  a  clam. 

I  looked  up  and  down  the  street  for  a  boy,  and  round 
the  corners,  and  over  into  yards,  and  into  all  sorts  of 
places  ;  but  they  had  strangely  disappeared,  all  but  a  little 
boy  who  was  studying  his  lesson  for  Sunday  school,  whose 
meditations  I  would  not  disturb.  How  welcome  would 
have  sounded  the  familiar  yell,  usually  so  annoying  !  Thus 
I  stood  walking  sentry  over  the  remains  for  one  hour,  look 
ing  out  as  anxiously  for  a  boy  as  a  shipwrecked  sailor  for 
rescue.  At  last  relief  came.  A  boy  appeared  upon  the 
scene,  dragging  along  the  limb  of  a  tree,  and  making  a 
wonderful  dust.  I  beckoned  to  him.  He  stood  still,  with 
evident  distrust,  as  I  had  threatened  him  many  times  with 
vengeful  visitings  for  juvenile"  misdemeanors. 

"  My  little  man,"  said  I,  "  do  you  wish  to  earn  some 
pennies  for  the  Fourth  ?  "  at  the  same  time  shaking  some 
coppers  at  him,  as  they  shake  corn  in  a  sieve  in  order  to 
catch  a  horse. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  he,  with  great  alacrity. 

"  Don't  give  him  more  than  two  cents,"  said  my  wife 
from  the  window. 

I  put  twelve  into  his  hand,  —  six  more  than  I  had  in 
tended, —  and  told  him  to  take  that  offensive  object  down  to 
the  river  and  throw  it  in.  ^  He  started  to  do  so  with  a  grin 
that  looked  as  if  he  had  thrown  it  in  the  yard  himself ;  and  I 


THE  BLIFKTNS   PAPERS.  33 

half  suspected  he  did,  for  before  he  had  gone  a  dozen  yards 
from  my  house  he  was  joined  by  ten  others,  who  laughed 
so  loudly  that  I  heard  them  where  I  stood.  But  I  was 
happy  in  being  rid  of  my  torment. 

Going^itto  the  house,  the  thought  of  the  adventure  as 
sailed  me,  and  thinking  how  similar  the  scene  was  to  that 
wherein  Burns  turned  up  the  mouse-nest  with  his  plough, 
I  sat  do^ru  and  wrote  this. 

Blifkins  took  a  paper  from  his  pocket,  and  adjusting  his 
spectacles,  read  as  follows  :  — 

TO  A  CAT, 

On  finding  one  turned  up  in  a  corner  of  my  front  yard  very  dead, 
Thou  Howling,  yowling,  growling  pussy, 
Thou  night  and  day  disturbing  hussy, 
JNo  more  thou'lt  wake  the  feeling  fussy 

With  thy  fierce  clamor, 
Driving  the  quietest  to  curse  thee, 

Like  tongs  and  hammer. 

Full  many  a  night  thou'st  kept  me  waking, 
My  nerves  like  aspen  leaflets  shaking, 
Till,  some  convenient  missile  taking,  — 

A  jug  or  boot,  — 
IVe  dashed  it  in  among  ye,  raking, 

And  made  ye  scoot. 

Thy  voice  I  knew,  when  fiercely  bawling, 
?Bove  all  thy  brothers'  notes  appalling, 
There,  7mid  my  flowers,  pulling  and  hauling, 

And  mischief  making ; 
But  thou  hast  stopped  thy  caterwauling, 

And  no  mistaking. 


34  PARTINGTONTAN  PATCHWORK. 

And  yet  I'm  sad  to  see  thee  lying, 

Though  long  iny  patience  thou'st  been  trying ; 

I  look  upon  thee,  no  denying, 

With  feeling  sickening, 
And  wonder  how  thou  felt'st  when  dying 

Of  sudden  strychnine. 

Didst  thou  look  back  with  thought  regretful 
At  making  people  vexed  and  fretful, 
Or  that  thy  horn  of  joy,  not  yet  full, 

Should  be  capsizen  ?  * 
Or  grieve  that  thou  wert  such  a  great  fool 

As  eat  the  pizen  ? 

Alas  !  like  many  a  fool  that's  human,  — 

Seen  every  day,  or  man  or  woman, 

Who  grasp  at  pleasures  fair  and  bloomin',  — 

Thou'st  reckless  bitten, 
And  found  too  soon  that  sin's  consumin' 

To  man  and  kitten. 

He  ceased  reading,  and  after  a  moment's  pause,  asked  us 
what  we  thought  of  it.  We  candidly  told  him  that  it  was 
barely  respectable,  and  by  no  means  to  be  compared  to 
Burns's  Mouse  "  on  turning  one  up."  He  smiled  faintly, 
saying,  "  That's  just  what  my  wife  said,"  and  went  out. 

*  "  Oapsizen  hisn  porritch  dishe."  —  Canterbury  Tales. 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  35 

V. 

BLIFKINS  THE   SUFFERER. 

ONE  warm  morning  we  met  Blifkins  with  a  patch  over 
one  of  his  eyes,  and  supposed  it  might  be  another  attack 
of  the  amaurosis  with  which  he  had  been  troubled.  He 
looked  anxious  and  care-worn,  and  in  response  to  our  morn 
ing  salutation  merely  nodded  as  he  attempted  to  go  by. 

"What!"  said  we,  "going  by  without  one  word  or  one 
shake  of  the  hand?" 

He  stopped,  and  extended  his  dexter  digits  with  a  feint 
at  cheerfulness,  but  failing  very  signally.  "What's  the 
matter  with  your  eye?  "  we  inquired,  in  a  tone  very  sym 
pathetic  ;  "  fell  down,  eh,  and  trod  on  it  ?  " 

He  lifted  up  the  patch  without  saying  a  word,  and 
pointed  to  his  eye  that  looked  —  not  exactly  looked, 
either,  because  it  was  nearly  closed,  and  had  a  wide,  dark 
circle  around  it,  as  though  from  a  severe  blow  —  very 
badly. 

"  What  did  it  ?  "  we  said,  much  shocked. 

He  opened  his  mouth,  and  slowly  said,  "  Mosquitoes  ! " 

"  For  Heaven's  sake  !  what !  "  we  said,  greatly  shocked; 
"  mosquitoes  did  that  ?  " 

He  nodded. 

"  We  adjure  you,  then,  0  Blifkins  !  in  the  name  of  friend 
ship,  to  tell  us  how,"  we  cried  in  great  agitation ;  and  drag 
ging  the  unfortunate  fellow  into  a  place  where  sedatives 
could  be  procured  if  needed,  we  bade  him  tell  his  story. 

"  My  wife,"  said  he,  lifting  the  patch  and  wiping  his  eye 
with  the  corner  of  his  silk  handkerchief,  "  is  very  much 
afraid  of  mosquitoes.  They  are  the  pest  of  her  life  5  lier 


36  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCITArORK. 

worriment  by  night  and  by  day.  There  cannot  be  a  mos 
quito  anywhere  in  the  neighborhood  that  does  not  find 
her,  and  they  manifest  their  partiality  by  biting  her,  deem 
ing  her  good  to  eat.  They  bite  her  face  and  hands,  and 
neck  and  ankles,  arid  —  noc  to  be  iarulior  explicit  —  are 
generally  fond  of  her  as  the  New  Zealanders  are  of  mis 
sionaries.  During  the  warm  evenings  they  pursue  her 
unrelentingly.  She  shuts  herself  in  darkness,  that  they 
may  not  see  her,  like  the  foolish  partridge,  that  puts  its 
head  beneath  a  leaf,  fancying  that  it  is  hidden.  Compara 
tively  like,  you  understand,  for  Mrs.  Blifkins  would  do  110 
such  ridiculous  thing  as  that.  Mosquito  bars  are  no  hin- 
derance,  for  if  the  bars  are  put  up  at  the  windows,  the  per 
sistent  things  will  come  in  through  the  open  doors ;  and 
she  declares,  on  her  honor  as  a  veracious  woman,  that 
she  has  known  them  to  push  up  a  window  in  order  to  get 
where  she  was.  At  any  rate,  she  could  not  account  for 
the  window's  being  up  on  any  other  hypothesis.  They 
do  not  allow  her  to  sleep,  and  though  I  dose  her  freely 
with  anodynes,  and  she  thus  slumbers,  she  has  dreams  of 
mosquitoes  that  render  sleep  unrefreshing. 

"  Last  night  we  had  retired,  as  usual,  and  I  was  fast  going 
towards  dreamland  —  had,  indeed,  become  unconscious  of 
surroundings  in  a  dim  twilight  of  sense,  —  when  her  voice 
aroused  me. 

" '  Mr.  Blifkins/  said  my  wife,  i  there  he  is  ! ' 

"I  started  up,  and  reached  to  the  corner  where  for 
twenty  years  the  big  cane  has  stood  with  which  I  am 
sometime  going  to  make  myself  wretched  by  braining  a 
burglar,  should  one  be  so  unfortunate  as  to  enter  my  sanc 
tuary. 

"  '  Where  is  he?'  said  I,  seizing  the  cane,  and  jumping 
out  of  bed  ;  '  where  is  the  marauding  villain  ? ' 

" '  Mr.  Blifkins,'  said  my  wife,  as  she  has  a  good  many 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  37 

times,  *  don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself.  I  don't  mean  a 
burglar  —  'tis  a  mosquito.  He  has  bit  me  on  my  hand. 
Cairt  you  hear  him  ? ' 

"  I  listened.  The  big  ear  of  Dionysius  could  not  have 
done  mere  in  the  listening  line  than  I  did  for  fully  five 
minutes,  and  then  answered,  '  No.' 

"  i  Do  you  hear  him  ? '  said  I,  carrying  the  war  into  Afri 
ca.  There  was  no  answer  to  my  question,  and  her  deep 
breathing  assured  me  that  she  was  asleep.  I  didn't  be 
lieve  there  was  a  mosquito  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of 
the  house,  and  went  to  bed  again  breathing  orisons  more 
profound  than  pious. 

"  I  had  got  once  more  in  a  comfortable  state ;  was,  indeed, 
dreaming  that  a  Houri,  in  a  short  striped  dress,  was  pre 
senting  me  with  a  bushel  basket  full  of  peaches,  each  of 
which  would  weigh  a  pound,  when  I  felt  a  sharp  nudge 
in  the  side,  that  I  deemed,  in  my  obliviousness,  to  be  a  stab 
given  by  some  dark  assassin  who  was  my  rival.  I  was 
just  going  to  perform  some  act  of  valor  that  might  have 
eclipsed  the  braining  of  the  burglar,  when  — 

" (  Mr.  Blifkins  ! '  said  my  wife. 

"  ( Foul  caitiff ! '  I  cried,  l  down,  down  to '  — 

"  '  Mr.  Blifkins  ! '  repeated  my  wife,  with  another  nudge 
sharper  than  the  first,  and  I  was  awake. 

"  '  What  is  the  matter  ? '  said  I ;  '  are  you  sick  ? '  There 
had  been  a  bad  case  of  the  cholera  in  the  neighborhood  that 
day,  and  I  feared  its  epidemic  character,  as  I  had  seen 
some  watermelon  rinds  in  the  sink  the  evening  before. 

" '  No,'  she  replied  j  '  but  hear  them  mosquitoes.' 

"  I  raised  myself  on  my  elbow  and  listened,  but  could  not 
catch  a  sound.  It  was  near  midnight,  and  every  thing  was 
still  as  death. 

"  ( I  -don't  hear  them,'  I  said,  vexed  at  being  disturbed, 
and  was  about  lying  down  again. 
4 


38  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  i  There  ! '_  cried  she  ;  '  there  they  are,  plain  enough/ 
"  I  listened  again,  and  heard  a  faint,  murmuring  sound, 
that  at  first  I  could  not  define.     At  last  it  came  more  dis 
tinctly. 

" '  That,'  said  I,  '  is  the  Brigade  Band,  serenading  the 
newly-married  couple  over  in  Confederation  Square.' 

"  I  was  malicious  in  my  triumph,  I  know.  She  said  noth 
ing  in  reply ;  and  after  looking  out  of  the  window  and  hear 
ing  the  distant  music,  as  I  could  do  distinctly  through  the 
open  window,  and,  seeing  a  light  still  burning  in  a  house 
far  off,  won'dering  whether  somebody  wasn't  sick  there, 
or  was  only  being  troubled  with  mosquitoes,  I  went  to  bed 
again. 

"  How  sweetly  sleep  comes  to  one  after  being  thus  dis 
turbed  !  I  realized  it,  to  its  full  extent,  and  almost  ere  my 
head  touched  the  pillow  the  most  delicious  stupor  seized 
me,  in  which  I  seemed  to  be  borne  away  somewhere  on 
invisible  wings,  breathing  airs  blown  over  multitudes  of 
opening  roses  and  everlasting  beds  of  clover.  I  had  just 
bidden  farewell  to  earth,  resolved  on  making  a  settlement 
in  the  beautiful  region  where  I  found  myself  and  becoming 
a  squatter  sovereign  on  celestial-  territory,  and  had  begun 
a  speech  appropriate  to  the  occasion  to  a  crowd  of  angelic 
beings  who  stood  around,  when  a  voice,  that  I  knew  to  be 
my  wife's,  said,  — 

"  '  Mr.  Blifkins  !  Mr.  Blifkins  !  there  they  are  again.' 
" i  Let  them  stay  there,  then,'  said  I,  '  and  we'll  stay 
here.' 

"  The  perfume  of  the  roses,  and  the  clover,  and  the  heav 
enly  scenery  vanished  under  the  influence  of  my  wife'sr 
elbow,  and  I  immediately  knew  I  was  anywhere  but  in 
heaven. 

"  '  What  is  it  ?  '  said  I,  as  pettishly  as  a  child  cutting  its 
teeth ;  and  mine  always  have  been  cutting  their  teeth,  if 
pettishness  is  any  sign. 


BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  39 

"  '  Hear  the  plaguy  mosquitoes/  replied  my  wife,  thresh 
ing  the  air  as  if  she  were  frantic. 

"  I  listened  again,  this  time  to  detect  that  the  sound  was 
the  complaint  of  a  dog  in  a  neighbor's  shed,  whose  bark 
was  deadened  by  the  intervention  of  partition  walls.  Says 
I,  rising  up,  getting  out  of  bed,  and  lighting  a  lamp,  — 

"  '  Mrs.  Blif  kins,  I  can  stand  this  no  longer,  and  will  not. 
I  must  sleep ;  and  here  I  declare  to  you  in  the  solemnity 
of  this  deep  midnight,  that  though  mosquitoes  come  as 
single  spies  or  in  battalions,  come  in  the  sonorous  tones  of 
a  brass  band  or  as  the  howling  of  a  cur,  come  in  their  own 
natural  voice  or  with  no  voice  at  all,  "  I'll  to  my  couch 
again,  and  try  to  sleep  it  into  morn."  ' 

"  I  threw  myself  on  the  bed,  murmuring,  '  Come, 

'  Sleep,  that  knits  up  the  ravelled  sleeve  of  care, 
The  death  of  each  day's  life,  sore  labor's  bath, 
Balm  of  hurt  minds,  great  nature's  second  course, 
Chief  nourisher  in  life's  feast.' 

Perhaps  I  mixed  the  quotation  up  a  little,  for  before  I  got 
well  to  the  end  of  it  I  was  fast  asleep. 

"  How  long  I  remained  thus  I  don't  know ;  but  I  was 
awakened  by  a  violent  blow  in  the  eye,  that  made  me  see 
lights  enough  to  supply  a  whole  Fourth  of  July  night  with 
coruscations.  The  first  thought  I  had  was  the  burglar ; 
the  second,  that  Mrs.  Blifkins*  had  been  taken  suddenly 
insane,  and  was  making  me  a  sacrifice  to  her  fury.  This 
seemed  borne  out  by  the  fact :  for,  upon  opening  my  eyes, 
she  stood  over  me  with  a  lamp  in  one  hand,  and  some  arti 
cle  of  clothing  in  the  other,  rolled  up  like  a  boxing-glove, 
with  which  she  had  given  me  one  punch  in  the  eye,  and 
from  the  expression  of  her  face  I  thought  she  was  just 
about  giving  another. 

"  '  For  Heaven's  sake,'  said  I,  '  what  is  the  matter  ? '  and 


40  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

jumped  out  of  bed  with  an  alacrity  that  I  did  not  deem 
myself  capable  of. 

"  '  I  thought  it  was  a  mosquito/  replied  she,  with  great 
indifference  in  her  tone,  as  I  thought;  'but  I  see  now  it 
was  only  the  mole  on  your  cheek  ! y  . 

"  '  Blast  the  mosquitoes/  cried  I,  infuriate ;  ( and  in 
future,  Mrs.  Blifkins,  before  you  attempt  to  kill  mosquitoes 
on  my  face,  be  sure  they  are  what  you  suppose,  and  be 
careful  of  buttons.7 

"  I  pointed  out  to  her  the  abrasion  of  the  skin  that  a  but 
ton  on  her  mosquito  exterminator  had  caused,  and  she  was 
dutifully  sorry ;  but  that  wouldn't  prevent  the  black  eye 
I've  got  this  morning,  you  know,  nor  restore  the  sleep  lost 
for  the  rest  of  the  night. 

"Bad  —  isn't  it ?"  said  he,  lifting  up  the  patch  again. 
"  Hereafter,"  continued  he,  "  during  the  mosquito  season, 
I'm  going  to  sleep  down  cellar." 

We  tell  the  story  nearly  as  he  told  it  us,  and  leave  the 
world  to  draw  its  own  moral  from  it,  provided  it  has  one. 


VI. 

BLIFKINS  THE  AUTHOR. 

"  I  AM  going  to  write  for  the  press,"  said  Blifkins,  as  his 
wife  asked  him  what  he  had  under  his  arm  when  he  came 
home  one  day.  He  laid  upon  the  table,  as  he  spoke,  a  half 
ream  of  paper,  a  box  of  steel  pens,  a  pint  bottle  of  ink,  four 
sheets  of  blotting-paper,  a  pot  of  mucilage,  a  new  inkstand, 
and  a  bunch  of  pen-holders.  "  I  am  going  to  write  for  the 
press,"  he  said,  uand  my  name  shall  hereafter  be  known  as 
one  of  its  most  honored  contributors." 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  41 

He  said  it  gayly,  with  an  assumed  light-heartedness  that 
he  often  put  on  when  met  with  similar  questions  as, 
"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  "  Who  have  you  seen  ?  "  and 
the  like.  In  this  instance,  however,  there  was  more  of 
truth  thafa 'marked  his  answers  at  times,  because  at  those 
other  times  there  was  an  acerbity  in  the  tone  of  the  ques 
tions  that  caused  irritation,  and  the  answers  swerved  occa 
sionally  from  the  line  of  honest  confession,  as  the  mag 
netic  needle  will  vary  under  peculiar  influences. 

"Yes/'  continued  he,  "here,  in  the  quiet  of  my  own 
home,  surrounded  by  sweet  domestic  influences,  will  I 
build  me  up  a  fabric  of  fame,  and  place  the  name  of  Blif- 
kins  among  the  stars." 

Mrs.  Blif  kins,  with  the  spirit  of  a  true  helpmeet,  simply 
said,  "Nonsense!'7  and  Blifkins,  taking  his  stationery, 
moved  up  stairs  to  the  place  which  he  called  his  "  study." 
He  adopted  this  room  and  christened  it  his  study  in  con 
formity  with  a  belief  he  had  long  held  that  every  one 
should  have  a  place  for  retirement,  where,  the  world  shut 
out,  the  soul  could  confer-  with  itself  and  become  beatified 
in  the  atmosphere  of  peace.  The  room  was  unfortunately 
located  for  quiet,  as  below  it  was  the  piano-room,  where 
the  elder  children  took  their  lessons,  above  it  the  nursery, 
where  the  younger  ones  pursued  their  games,  on  the  right 
of  it  the  reception-room,  on  the  left  of  it  the  sewing-room, 
provided  with  a  sewing-machine,  back  of  it  a  broad  stair 
way,  and  it  fronted  on  the  busiest  street  in  town.  But 
Blifkins  put  a  desk  in  one  corner  of  it,  hung  up  a  shelf  for 
the  accommodation  of  Worcester's  Dictionary,  and  a  The 
saurus  of  English  Words,  stretched  a  map  of  Boston  on 
the  wall,  and  called  it  his  "  snuggery,"  his  "  study,"  his 
"sanctum,"  very  pettingly. 

Here  was  to  be  the  field  of  his  trials  and  his  triumphs, 
and  here  he  brought  his  stationery  preparatory  to  the  in- 


42  PARTINGTONfAN   PATCHWORK. 

tellectual  flights  lie  meditated.  He  sat  down  at  his  desk, 
and  arranged  every  tiling  in  the  most  judicious  order,  and 
all  wore  a  very  literary  aspect.  Blif kins  looked  admiringly 
upon  the  work  of  his  hands,  which  was  to  be  succeeded  by 
the  work  of  his  head,  and  dipped  his  pen  in  the  inkstand, 
ready  to  begin  when  the  inspiration  should  come. 

Arternus  Ward  says  that  "  every  man  has  his  fort." 
Blif  kins  knew  this,  and  wondered  what  his  "  fort "  was. 
He  thought  it  could  not  be  poetry,  for  he  despised  the 
effeminacy  of  rhyme  ;  neither  could  it  be  history,  for  he  had 
no  sympathy  with  the  ponderous  sentences  of  the  histori 
ans.  He  felt  that  it  was  on  the  field  of  romance  that  he 
was  to  excel,  and  he  realized  a  glow  of  enthusiasm  as  he 
reached  this  conclusion.  Here  he  would  compete  with 
Cobb,  and  Ingraham,  and  Murray,  and  win  a  fame  coeval 
with  that  of  those  stars  in  the  literary  firmament. 

Every  thing  depends,  of  course,  upon  a  title,  —  all  roman 
cers  know  this,  —  and  the  best  story  the  world  ever  saw, 
without  the  sensational  prefix,  might  as  well  never  have 
been  written,  so  far  as  popular  favor  is  concerned.  Its 
perusal  must  be  confined  to  the  interest  of  a  few  friends, 
and  then  forgotten.  "  The  Bloody  Handspike,  or  the 
Pirate  of  the  Coral  B-eefs,"  contains  a  story  in  the  very  title ; 
so  does  "  The  Eleven  Giants  of  Castile,  or  the  Ghost  of  the 
Alhambra  ; "  and  so  does  "  The  Wolf's  Nest  of  the  Pyrenees, 
or  the  Doom  of  Domville."  Blifkins  sat  there,  with  his 
pen  between  his  fingers,  thinking  of  a  title.  For  full  fif 
teen  minutes  he  sat  thus,  looking  down  upon  his  sheet  of 
paper,  which  lay  in  unprofaned  purity  before  him,  occasion 
ally  running  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  as  though  en 
deavoring  to  harrow  a  title  up  from  the  roots  of  it.  But  the 
title  wouldn't  come.  At  last,  his  feelings  wrought  to  their 
utmost  tension,  the  idea  came  to  him  as  the  shower  of  gold 
did  to  the  young  spendthrift,  who,  when  reduced  to  his 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  43 

last  penny,  essayed  to  hang  himself,  agreeably  to  a  pleas 
ant  codicil  in  his  father's  will  recommending  such  course, 
and  pulled  the  treasure  about  his  ears  that  the  wily  old 
gentleman  had  placed  behind  the  fatal  beam.  The  idea 
came,  ancf  Blifkins  wrote  — 

"  The  Cruise  of  the  Seven  Pollies : 
A  Tale  of  the  Sea. 

"At  the  close  of  a  lovely  day  in  the  autumn  of  1816,  the 
sun  sinking  beneath  the  western  wave,  leaving  behind  a 
trail  of  effulgent  glory,  bathing  every  object  in  its  crimson 
light,  the  Seven  Pollies  came  to  her  moorings  in  Ossipee 
Bay.  Her  captain  was  a  mere  youth,  but  upon  his  brow 
were  discernible  the  marks  of  deep  care,  and  as  he  gazed 
earnestly  towards  the  shore,  he  said  to  the  first  officer,  who 
leaned  listlessly  over  the  rail "  — 

«  Mr.  Blif  kins  !  " 

The  sudden  call  from  below  startled  Blifkins  from  his 
meditation,  and  he  forgot  what  the  captain  was  going  to 
say.  It  was  his  wife's  voice  that  had  threatened  the  story 
of  the  «  Seven  Pollies." 

"  Mr.  Blifkins  ! " 

The  cry  came  louder  this  time,  and  Blifkins,  opening 
the  door,  inquired,  in  a  voice  as  vehement  as  a  melodramic 
boatswain's  — 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Blifkins,  will  you  come  down  and  get  some  coal  ? 
The  fire  is  out  in  the  grate,  and  mercy  knows  I  have  to 
work  hard  enough  without  going  down  cellar  after  coal, 
though  some  men  think  it  is  a  woman's  place  to  do  so,  and 
to  do  all  sorts  of  drudgery,  while  they  sit  down  and  fold 
their  hands,  and  have  nothing  to  do." 

More  was  said,  but  Blifkins  closed  the  door,  and  the 
rest  subsided  to  a  murmur.  He  left  his  story  upon  the 


44  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

table,  and  went  down  to  perform  the  required  service.  He 
was  an  adept  in  bringing  up  coal,  he  had  got  so  used  to 
it.  At  whatever  time  of  night  or  day  he  might  be  in 
the  house,  he  was  called  upon  to  bring  coal.  He  was 
chained  to  an  unbending  destiny  that  had  coal  for  its  for 
mula.  An  English  friend  of  the  family  called  him  a  "  hod 
fellow ; "  and  it  was  a  pleasant  thing  for  him  to  say,  "  Poor 
Tom's  a  coaled,"  which  melancholy  and  sombre  joke 
alwaj^s  elicited  a  smile.  Blifkins  was  wont  to  express  the 
belief  that  if  he  was  at  the  last  mortal  strait,  his  thoughts 
reaching  into  the  unseen  world,  he  would  be  recalled  by 
the  demand  for  coal  —  a  forcible  but  very  preposterous 
idea. 

Having  discharged  this  duty,  he  again  retired  to  com 
mune  with  the  "  Seven  Follies,"  He  sat  down  at  his  desk, 
and  read  what  he  had  written,  but  he  couldn't  recall  what 
the  youthful  captain  was  going  to  say.  He  took  out  his 
penknife,  and  unconsciously  whittled  away  at  his  pen 
holder,  until  the  floor  was  covered  with  chips. 

"  Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  his  wife,  suddenly  breaking  upon 
him  from  a  side  door  like  an  avalanche,  "aren't  you  mak 
ing  a  pretty  mess  here  ?  Look  at  these  chips  now.  You 
won't  be  so  ready  to  gather  them  up,  I  dare  say.  But  no 
matter  —  it  is  only  another  grain  added  to  the  burden. 
1  The  Cruise  of  the  Seven  Follies ! ?  So  this  is  what  you 
have  been  doing?  Well,  what  did  he  sa^  ?" 

"Upon  my  word,"  said  Blifkins,  "I  haven't  the  least 
idea,  at  present ;  it  was  in  my  head,  but  was  entirely  driven 
out  by  a  hod  of  coal." 

"That's  it,  Mr.  Blifkins,  that's  it,"  said  she ;  "make  me 
responsible  for  every  thing ;  I  dare  say  you  will  accuse  me 
of  destroying  your  appetite  next.  Think  of  a  poor 
woman's  duties,  and  then  you  will  never  make  so  much  fuss 
because  you  have  to  get  a  hodful  of  coal  in  a  day." 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPEES.  45 

Blifkins  groaned,  and  Mrs.  Blifkins  went  out,  slamming 
the  door  after  her. 

— : —  "  He  said  to  the  first  officer,'  who  leaned  listlessly 
over  the  rail "  — 

A  bran"  new  pen  hovered  over  the  sentence  to  finish  it, 
and  the  eyes  of  Blifkins,  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling,  stared 
fixedly  upon  the  page  before  him.  At  last  he  threw  the 
manuscript  into  his  desk,  and  went  out,  impressed  with  the 
idea  that  the  influences  were  unfavorable  for  inspiration, 
and  that  a  man  could  not  tap  himself,  like  a  cider  barrel, 
for  thought  when  he  chose ;  particularly  inveighing,  in  his 
own  mind,  against  the  coal  hod  that  had  smothered  his 
idea. 

"  What  did  the  captain  say  ?  "  Mrs.  Blifkins  inquired 
the  next  day  at  dinner,  with  a  mischievous  twinkle  of  her 
eyes. 

"Blifkins  pushed  back  his  chair,  and  went  up  to  his 
"  study,"  remarking  before  he  went  that  he  would  show 
people  that  some  things  could  be  done  as  well  as  others  — 
an  exceedingly  original  remark,  which  went  to  show  the 
lively  nature  of  Blifkins's  fancy. 

"  He  said  to  the  first  officer,  who  leaned  listlessly 

over  the  rail "  — 

"  What  the  deuse  did  he  say  ?  "  said  Blifkins,  dipping 
his  pen  again  and  again  into  the  inkstand,  as  though  the 
word  were  in  there,  and  he  were  trying  to  dig  it  out.  He 
was  in  the  condition  of  the  man  who  -had  ideas  enough, 
but  couldn't  think  of  them. 

Click  !  click !  click  !  click ! 

The  sewing-machine  in  the  sewing-room  sent  up  a  pleas 
ant  note  ;  Mrs.  Blifkins  and  a  neighbor  were  discussing  do 
mestic  economy  in  the  sitting-room  ;  Mary  Jane  thrummed 
the  piano  in  the  room  below;  above,  the  children  "volleyed 
and  thundered  j"  the  little  boy  was  dragging  his  truckle- 


46  PAKTINGTOXIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

cart  down  stairs ;  and  in  the  street  an  alarm  of  fire  made 
noise  enough  to  drown  the  crash  of  the  Union  when  it 
breaks. 

Poor  Blifkins  seized  his  hat  and  rushed  out  in  a  condi 
tion  bordering  on  despair. 

We  were  in  his  study  a  few  days  since,  and  as  we  sat 
conversing  with  him  he  told  us  his  experience,  ^he  ambi 
tion  that  had  inspired  him,  and  its  failure. 

"  Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  a  voice  on  the  stairs,  "  will  you 
come  down  and  bring  up  some  coal  ?  " 

He  looked  at  us  sadly,  and  went  out  like  a  lamp  poorly 
trimmed.  We  lifted  a  sheet  of  paper  from  the  floor,  and 
upon  looking  at  the  writing  found  it  to  be  — 

"  The  Cruise  of  the  Seven  Follies  : 
A  Tale  of  the  Sea. 

"  At  the  close  of  a  lovely  day,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.,  he  said  to 
the  first  officer,  who  leaned  listlessly  over  the  rail"  — 
And  that  is  all  that  the  world  will  ever  know  of  it. 


VII. 

BLTFKINS  THE  COASTER. 

BLIFKINS  paid  us  a  winter  morning  call,  and'  asked  us 
if  we  had  ever  thought  of  the  danger  to  pedestrians,  of 
"coasting."  We  told  him  that  we  thought,  as  that  practice 
of  the  boys  was  now  confined  to  the  Common,  and  was  all 
the  time  under  the  eye  of  the  police,  it  was  not  well  to 
say  any  thing  about  it,  because  the  boys  must  play  some 
where,  and  if  we  could  keep  them  from  the  streets,  that 
was  as  much  as  we  might  reasonably  expect.  He  gave 
what  seemed  a  very  unwilling  assent  to  this,  and  said, 
"  Perhaps  so." 


THE   BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  47 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  we  inquired. 

"  Nothing,"  he  replied,  "  of  any  value  to  anybody  but 
myself,  as  the  advertisements  of  lost  wallets  say.  I've 
beon  thrown." 

'•  Ah,"  we  said,  "  that  alters  the  position  of  things." 

"  Certainly,"  he  replied,  with  a  sepulchral  laugh*  "  It 
altered  mine." 

"  How  was  it  ?  "  we  asked. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  "  as  I  was  passing  down  the  Park 
Street  Mall,  indulging  in  an  attempt  to  call  to  mind  a 
commission  with  which  Mrs.  Blifkins  had  intrusted  me, 
and  was  necessarily  considerably  confused,  my  ear  was  as 
sailed  by  the  cry  of,  {  Ulla,  ulla  ! '  which  arrested  my  at 
tention,  inasmuch  as  it  brought  to  memory  my  early  expe 
riences  in  Constantinople,  where  the  cry,  Allah  il  Allah 
was  frequently  heard.  I  was  then  struck  by  the  sound, 
and  in  a  moment  more  was  struck  by  something  more  tan 
gible,  as  a  boy's  head  was  thrust  between  my  legs,  and  I 
was  thrown  violently  on  my  back,  with  my  legs  elevated 
in  the  air  like  the  two  masts  of  a  schooner.  I  could  not 
rally  my  faculties  for  some  time  to  determine  the  charac 
ter  of  the  disaster ;  but  I  found  myself  going  onward  with 
great  velocity,  while  a  voice  beneath  me  cried  out,  vehe 
mently,  '  Get  off  o'  my  back ! '  The  wind  was  high  at 
the  time,  and  my  hat,  taking  advantage  of  my  position, 
basely  seceded,  rolling  away  on  its  rim  with  a  frantic  ex 
ultation,  seemingly,  at  its  freedom.  I  came  to  the  conclu 
sion,  before  I  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill,  that  I  was  a  vic 
tim  of  '  coasting ; '  and,  indeed,  with  my  feet  elevated,  I 
bore  no  inapt  likeness  to  a  fore-and-after  scudding  under 
bare  poles.  Upon  getting  on  my  legs,  I  found  that  I  had 
been  an  object  of  great  interest  among  the  boys,  who  had 
regarded  my  involuntary  race  as  a  thing  for  competition, 
and  gave  me  three  cheers  and  a  tiger,  as  they  gathered 


48  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

round  me,  at  my  success ;  for  our  sled,  from  the  increased 
momentum  caused  by  my  fall,  had  come  in  several  lengths 
ahead.  But  glancing  upon  the  spectators  who  had  marked 
my  feat,  my  horror  was  great  to  observe  one  of  my  female 
neighbors,  who  would,  I  knew,  at  once  convey  the  news  of 
my  discomfiture  to  Mrs.  Blifkins. 

"  '  Gracious  goodness  ! '  said  she.  '  Mr.  Blifkins,  who 
would  have  thought  it  ?  I  declare  I  never  saw  such  a 
sight  before  ! ' 

"  '  Probably  not,  ma'am,'  I  replied,  somewhat  chagrined, 
'  because,  as  I  approached  you  in  the  manner  I  did,  tjie 
sight  must  have  been  behind.' 

"  I  was  abundantly  avenged.  She  looked  at  me  with  a 
grim  smile,  and  went  to  tell  my  wife,  which  she  did  with 
a  regard  for  embellishment  that  stamped  her  as  an  artist 
of  much  brilliancy  of  fancy.  My  hat  was  stopped  by  a 
friend's  putting  his  foot  in  it." 

He  ceased  his  narration,  and  asked  what  we  thought  of 
it.  We  told  him  that  it  was  another  capital  illustration 
of  the  mutability  of  earthly  things,  of  our  danger  of  fall 
ing  even  when  feeling  most  secure,  and  of  the  ups  and 
downs  in  life.  We 'still  clung  to  the  idea  that  the  boys 
must  have  their  fun  ;  and  made  him  at  last  admit  that,  if 
he  had  used  proper  care,  and  kept  his  eyes  open,  the  ac 
cident  and  its  attendant  mortification  could  not  have 
occurred. 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPEK$.  49 

VIII. 
BLIFKINS   THE  MOURNER. 

"  BLESS  my  soul ! "  said  Blifkins,  as  he  took  up  «,  morn 
ing  paper  ;  "  so  poor  Whifnetree  is  dead  —  thrown  out  of 
his  carriage,  eh?  How  suddenly  these  things  do  come 
upon  us,  to  be  sure  !  Here  to-day,  and  there  to-morrow. 
Heigh-ho ! " 

It  was  a  deep  sigh  that  Blifkins  brought  up  from  the 
depths  of  his  feelings,  and  he  lighted  a  fresh  cigar,  to  do 
full  justice  to  the  subject  that  filled  him. 

"  He  was  not  so  old  as  I  am  by  three  years,"  he  rumi 
nated  ;  "  seemed  likely  to  live  for  a  great  while,  and  be  a 
blessing  to  —  to  —  livery  stable-keepers;  and  here  he  is, 
now,  swept  away  like  the  blaze  of  a  candle,  or  the  ashes 
of  a  cigar  !  Hather  rough  ;  but  death  takes  us  at  any  dis 
advantage,  and  we  are  gone  before  we  think  of  it.  I  won 
der  how  much  he  has  left  ?  Not  much,  I  guess,  for  he  has 
lived  close  up  to  his  means,  if  he  basn't  exceeded  them, 
and  his  wife  doesn't  know  tbe  first  step  of  prudence." 

Who  may  know,  beyond  conjecture,  what  tribute  be 
paid  to  the  economical  virtues  of  Mrs.  Blifkins  in  this  re 
flection  !  Not  a  word  was  uttered ;  but  how  natural  it 
was  to  let  his  mind  revert  to  the  many  modes  of  saving 
inaugurated  by  that  excellent  woman,  which,  though  re 
garded  a  bore  by  himself,  nevertheless  kept  money  in  his 
pocket.  Anybody  else  would  have  thought  of  this ;  but 
Blifkins,  it  must  be  remembered,  is  a  "  brute,"  as  Mrs. 
Blifkins  has  many  times  affectionately  remarked,  and  has 
not  those  nice  pqrceptions  of  womanly  excellence,  it  is 
feared,  that  he  has  of  cigars. 
5 


50  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

"Poor  Whiffletree!"  he  continued.  "It  isn't  a  week 
since  I  played  billiards  with  him.  Capital  player  !  Gave 
me  twenty-five,  and  beat  me.  Promised  to  teach  me  his 
game  ;  but  guess  he  will  have  something  else  to  think  of. 
Wonder  when  he  is  to  be  buried  ?  t  To-morrow  at  three 
o'clock,  from  his  late  residence  in  Puddle  Lane.'  Well, 
'tis  the  last  I  can  do  for  him,  and  I'll  attend  his  funeral. 
Poor  Whif!" 

He  concluded  his  cigar;  but  he  could  not  banish  the 
accident  from  his  mind.  Whiffletree  infused  himself  into 
all  his  business.  He  drew  a  check  payable  to  Whiffletree. 
He  addressed  a  telegraph  despatch  to  Whiffletree.  He 
asked  his  clerk  if  any  letters  had  been  received  from 
Whiffletree.  At  night  he  went  home  dispirited,  and  told 
Mrs.  Blifkins  what  had  happened.  She  is  a  woman  of 
wonderful  calmness,  and  heard  it  with  great  placidity,  re 
marking  that  she  was  sorry  he  hadn't  .been  a  better  man. 
For  her  part,  she  said,  she  wondered  why  men  of  respecta 
ble  families  could  associate  with  such  people  as  he  had 
been,  and  thought  it  very  strange — she  would  not  say 
desirable  —  that  the  accident  hadn't  happened  years  be 
fore.  This,  of  course,  awakened  Blifkins  to  a  defence  of 
his  friend,  and  a  few  moments  were  spent  in  a  delightful 
interchange  of  sentiment,  that  ended  in  deeper  contem- 
plativeness  on  his  part,  and  a  more  general  withdrawal  of 
Mrs.  Blifkins  into  her  domestic  pursuits,  firing  an  occa 
sional  shell,  as  the  turret  of  her  thoughts  revolved  to  a 
proper  bearing,  to  which  Blifkins  was  oblivious.  He  was 
asleep  on  the  sofa. 

The  next  day  he  adhered  to  his  determination  to  go  to 
the  funeral,  though  no  further  remark  was  made  on  the 
subject.  Blifkins  had  found  that,  as  matters  became  liable 
to  provoke  discussion,  it  was  better  that  they  should  be 
dropped ;  and  Whiffletree  was  banished  forever  from  that 


•THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  51 

precinct.  He  went  down  town  in  a  humor  not  the  hap 
piest,  and  his  displeasure  was  heightened  J>y  the  fact  that 
the  shares  bought  by  his  partner  in  the  Universal  Wash 
ing-machine  and  Clothes-pin  Manufacturing  Company  had 
fallen  in  value  five  per  cent  by  the  last  report  from  the 
Brokers'  Board. 

Every  one  has  noticed  that  when  one  has  an  object  in 
view,  particularly  if  he  wishes  to  go  away,  a  thousand 
things  rush  in  to  prevent  its  accomplishment.  Thus  it  was 
with  Blifkins.  As  the  hour  of  three  arrived,  it  seemed  as 
if  Dame  Fortune  had  taken  that  moment  wherein  to  ply 
him  with  business,  and  he  thought  that  she  had,  in  her 
blindness,  made  a  mistake  regarding  the  time  of  day.  He 
had,  as  it  was,  to  leave  several  things  to  be  finished  up  by 
the  clerks  and  his  partners,  and  started  at  the  time  to  at 
tend  the  funeral. 

"  Puddle  Lane  !  "  said  he  to  himself.  "  Where  the  deuse 
is  Puddle  Lane  ?  " 

"  Did  you  speak  to  me,  sir  ?  "  inquired  a  voice  by  his 
side. 

"  No,  sir ;  I  was  talking  to  myself,"  replied  Blifkins,  a 
little  sharply. 

"  Ask  pardon,  sir,"  said  the  owner  of  the  voice.  "  Con 
gratulate  you  on  having  so  pleasant  a  companion." 

"  Where's  Puddle  Lane  ?  "  Blifkins  inquired  of  a  cab 
man  standing  at  a  corner. 

"  I'll  carry  yer  there,"  was  the  reply.  "  Can't  tell  yer, 
because  it  would  be  agin  my  biz." 

"  Mercenary  wretch  !  "  thought  Blifkins  ;  "  and  I  going 
to  poor  Whiffletree's  funeral !  " 

"  Puddle  Lane,  sir,"  said  a  seedy-looking  individual,  with 
a  red  nose,  standing  by,  "  is  up  to  the  West  End,  sir,  near 
the  hospital.  Take  the  right  hand  corner  arter  you  come 
to  the  scliool-houss,  and  then — let  me  see:  one,  two,  three 


52  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

—  the  fourth  turn  is  Puddle  Lane.  You  can't  help  miss 
ing  it." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Blifkins,  handing  him  a  specimen  of 
postal  currency,  which,  the  man,  with  a  slight  cough,  de 
posited  in  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

Blifkins  went  as  directed,  but  found,  when  he  had  ar 
rived  at  the  West  End,  that  he  had  not  got  from  the  man 
who  directed  him  the  name  of  the  street  where  the"  school- 
house  was  located,  nor  the  name  of  the  school-house  itself. 
He  asked  a  little  colored  boy  if  he  could  tell  him  where 
Puddle  Lane  was,  who  set  up  a  fearful  cry,  as  though  he 
(Blifkins)  had  been  a  slave-catcher  ;  and  he  scarcely  dared 
inquire  again.  Going  on  a  block  farther,  he  came  to  a 
school-house,  and,  trusting  to  luck,  he  turned  the  corner,  as 
directed  by  the  man.  He  went  along  counting  the  streets, 
and,  looking  down  the  one  corresponding  with  the  direction, 
he  saw  a  number  of  carriages  standing  before  a  door,  and 
felt  that  he  was  right.  He  went  to  the  door,  rung  the  bell, 
and  was  admitted. 

The  services  were  nearly  concluded,  the  closing  portion 
of  which  dwelt  with  particular  earnestness  upon  the  vir 
tues  of  the  deceased,  to  which  he  listened  with  delighted 
surprise,  and  thought  to  himself  what  a  triumphant  an 
swer  it  would  be  to  Mrs.  Blifkins's  charges,  could  she  hear 
what  was  said  of  his  deceased  friend,  and  wondered  how 
he  had  done  so  much  good  without  his  knowing  it.  It 
occurred  to  him,  indeed,  that  the  good  man  was  laying  it 
on  a  little  thick  regarding  his  virtues,  and  estimated  the 
chances  of  Whiffletree  himself,  in  shadowy  presence,  being 
there,  blushing  at  praise  which,  at  least,  appeared  rather 
exaggerated.  If  such  a  thing  is  permitted  as  "coining 
back,"  —  and,  indeed,  do  we  go  ?  —  many  a  ghostly  cheek 
must  redden  at  hyperbole  which  partial  lips  express  — 
hardly  deserved.  But  the  time  prompts  to  kindness,  and 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  53 

this  excused,  if  it  did  not  justify,  the  eulogy  to  the  mind 
of  Blifkins. 

"  Do  you  ride  with  the  mourners  ?  "  an  attendant  asked, 
with  a  subdued  voice. 

"  I  hardly  know,"  replied  Blifkins,  in  a  deep  whisper ; 
"  hut  I  was  one  of  his  most  intimate  friends." 

"  What  name,  sir  ?  "  was  asked. 

"Blifkins,"  he  whispered,  "Benjamin  Blifkins." 

The  man  left  him,  and  the  calling  commenced.  Very 
soon  he  heard  his  name  uttered ;  and,  entering  the  coach, 
he  found  himself  vis-a-vis  with  a  remarkably  fine-looking 
young  woman,  —  a  friend  of  the  family  likewise,  —  whose 
dark  eyes  scanned  Mr.  Blifkins  very  inquiringly  as  he  en 
tered.  Her  face  was  one  of  the  conversational  sort  that 
provoke  address  —  bright  and  sparkling,  with  an  epigram 
in  every  line  of  it.  The  others  in  the  coach  were  grave 
people,  —  excellent  for  mourners  at  anybody's  funeral,  — 
with  no  talk  in  them.  After  riding  some  distance,  Blif 
kins  began :  — 

"  'Twas  a  very  sad  affair,  madam." 

"  Yes,  .sir,"  was  the  reply  j  "  but  it  must  .happen  to  all 
of  us  sooner  or  later." 

"  Very  true  ;  but  it  was  so  sudden  !  "  said  Blifkins. 

"  Yes  ;  but  he  has  been  going  rather  fast  lately." 

"  Ah,  he  has,  I  know.  And  therefore  I  wonder  at  the 
nature  of  the  remarks  that  were  made." 

"  He  was  always  ready." 

Blifkins  nodded ;  yet  he  couldn't  reconcile  the  word 
"  ready  "  with  any  thing  but  a  team  and  a  pair  of  runners. 
He  settled  at  last  upon  the  argument  with  which  he  met 
the  address,  —  kindness  for  the  departed,  —  but  remained 
silent  for  some  time. 

"  Have  you  known  him  long  ?  "  the  lady  asked. 

"  He  was  the  friend  of  my  early  days  —  ono  of  the  best 


54  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

of  fellows  —  possessed  very  few  foibles,  though  some 
were  severe  upon  him  —  called  him  a  little  fast,  you 
know*." 

"  Fast  ?  "  and  her  eyes  blazed  as  though  she  was  very 
much  astonished.  There  was  a  little  fun  in  the  tone,  too, 
he  thought. 

"  Well,  yes,"  he  replied ;  "  some  would  call  it  so  ;  but 
those  who  knew  him  well  enough  to  allow  for  the  exuber 
ance  of  his  generous  spirit  would  give  it  a  softer  name." 

"  Did  you  say  (  exuberance  of  spirit '  ?  "  she  almost 
screamed,  causing  the  other  persons  in  the  coach  to  look 
round. 

"  I  did,"  said  he.  "  I  have  been  with  him  myself  when 
he  might  be  open  to  the  suspicion  that  has  been  breathed. 
Have  seen  him,  indeed,  at  times,  when  he  was  not  in  con 
dition  to  lead  in  class-meeting ;  yet  a  more  honest  and 
better-hearted  fellow  it  was  never  my  lot  to  meet." 

The  lady  covered  her  face  with  her  handkerchief,  and 
Blifkins  saw,  as  he  supposed,  the  ill  he  had  done  in  har 
rowing  up  her  feelings  by  a  recital  of  his  good  qualities. 
Her  agitation  was  very  marked,  and  she  remained  silent 
for  some  time.  At  last  she  looked  up,  without  the  trace 
of  a  tear  in  her  eye,  and  said,  — 

"  How  well  you  must  have  known  him  !  The  character 
you  have  given  him  is  very  correct,  though  I  must  say  that 
I  never  saw  "  — 

Here  the  carriage  stopped,  and  the  driver,  letting  the 
steps  down,  interrupted  the  sentence  she  had  begun. 
Blifkins  handed  the  lady  out  with  proper  ceremony,  and, 
offering  his  arm,  they  joined  the  procession,  moving  sol 
emnly  and  peacefully  through  the  shades  of  Mount  Hope, 
that  charming  resting-place  for  the  dead.  An  opportunity 
was  to  be  afforded  here  to  see  the  deceased ;  and  Blifkins, 
as  he  went  along,  plucked  a  leaf  from  an  overbending  tree, 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  55 

which  he  was  going  to  place  in  the  casket,  and  recalled 
those  sweet  lines  of  Halleck's  repeated  so  often,  — 

"  Green  be  the  turf  above  thee,"  &c. 

Gathering  in  a  solemn  circle,  amid  the  most  impressive 
stillness,  each  stepped  forward  to  take  the  last  look.  It 
was  Blifkins's  turn,  and,  with  demure  countenance,  he 
prepared  to  take  his  final  leave  of  his  friend,  when,  as  he 
looked  into  the  stony  face  before  him,  he  saw,  not  Whiffie- 
tree,  hut  Deacon  Hardhead,  a  man  whose  reputation  for 
closeness  had  won  him  a  name  by  no  means  desirable,  and 
who  once  had  become  possessed  of  a  note  of  Blifkins's, 
which  he  pressed  with  most  persistent  energy  till  he  paid 
it,  putting  him  to  some  considerable  inconvenience  to  raise 
the  funds  at  a  time  when  money  was  scarce.  Blifkins  had 
hated  him  cordially  ever  since ;  'and  to  find  himself  now 
one  of  a  retinue  to  do  him  honor,  and  his  friend  Whiffle- 
tree  denied  his  tribute,  caused  a  feeling  that  he  could  not 
overcome.  Even  his  fair  companion  could  not  reconcile 
him  to  the  false  position  he  was  in,  —  at  the  wrong  funeral, 
—  and,  stopping  the  carriage  at  the  first  railway  track,  he 
rode  to  town  in  the  horse-car,  feeling  that  he  had  been 
outrageously  swindled. 

It  all  came  from  that  mischievous  man's  direction,  for 
everybody  knows  that  Puddle  Lane  isn't  in  that  part  of 
the  city. 


56  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

• 

IX. 

MR.  BLIFKINS  SEES  KEAN. 

• 
"I  SHOULD  like  to  see  Kean,"  said  Mrs.  Blifkins,  at  the 

breakfast  table,  reading  a  very  eulogistic  criticism  of  the 
Keans.  "  I  suppose,  however,  that  I  must  do  without  it, 
though  Mrs.  Brown  has  been,  and  says  he  is  divine." 

"Like  to  see  Kean?"  replied  Benjamin,  poising  his  cup 
on  the  way  to  his  mouth.  "I  never  saw  one  that  could 
see  keener.  Those  eyes,  whose  rays  outshine  the  morn, 
have  the  penetration  of  gimlets." 

"Now,  do  make  yourself  ridiculous!"  said  she,  though 
a  little  moved  by  the  flattery ;  and  Blifkins,  before  he  left 
the  house,  assured  Mrs.  B.  that  she  should  see  Kean  that 
evening. 

This  was  on  Thursday.  Mr.  Blifkins  went  to  the  store. 
There  was  an  unusual  rush  of  business  during  the  day, 
and  at  five  o'clock  he  set  out,  perspiringly,  for  home.  He 
reached  a  horse-car  that  was  passing,  full  to  its  utmost 
capacity,  and  catching  the  rail,  he  swung  himself  on  to 
the  platform,  where  he  hung  by  one  foot,  like  a  fly,  one 
gentleman  puffing  a  broadside  of  tobacco  smoke  into  his 
face,  and  another  diffusing  the  same  through  his  back  hair, 
which  came  out  around  the  rim  of  his  hat,  like  steam"  from 
around  a  wash-boiler  cover.  There  was  some  obstruction 
on  the  track,  and  Mr.  Blifkins,  in  thinking  of  the  home 
comfort  that  awaited  him,  was  disturbed. 

"  These  cars  are  nuisances,"  said  he,  spitefully. 

"  So  are  you,"  said  an  obese  man,  who  was  hanging  to 
the  same  rail  with  himself. 

"  Why  ?  "  Blifkins  asked,  with  some  surprise. 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  57 

"  Because  you  have  been  kicking  my  corns  ever  since 
you  got  on  here,"  said  the  obese  man ;  "  and  if  I  hadn't 
seen  jest  how  you  was  sitoowated,  I'd  ha'  pitched  ye  off." 

Blifkins's  first  thought  was  resentment ;  but  his  second 
thought,  as  he  looked  at .  the  obese  man,  was  pacific.  It 
was  nearly  six  o'clock  when  he  arrived  home,  where  he 
found  Mrs.  B.  arrayed  in  all  the  magnificence  of  toilet  of 
which  her  wardrobe  was  susceptible  ;  and  to  his  inquiry 
if  she  was  going  out,  she  opened  her  eyes  wide  with  as 
tonishment,  and  said,  — 

"  Certainly !  I'm  going  to  see  Kean.  Where  are  the 
tickets?" 

Blifkins  was  a  truthful  man  generally ;  but  he  dared 
not  encounter  that  eye  whose  rays  outshone  the  morn,  as 
he  had  said  in  the  morning,  and  he  replied,  while  pretend 
ing  to  look  out  of  the  window,  — 

"  Couldn't  get  'em.     All  sold  before  I  got  down  town." 

Mrs.  Blifkins  was  exceedingly  provoked ;  but  as  it  was 
so  evidently  a  case  of  ill  luck,  rather  than  stupidity,  on  Mr. 
Blifkins's  part,  she  merely  said  that  it  was  always  the  way, 
—  she  never  lotted  on  going  anywhere  in  her  life  that 
there  was  not  some  disappointment  attending  it,  —  and 
subsided  into  silence  over  her  tea. 

"  You  know  I  can't  go  to-morrow  night,  Benjamin,"  said 
Mrs.  B.,  "  because  the  sewing  circle  meets  here." 

"  True,"  said  Blifkins ;  "  but  as  I  go.  down,  I  will  step 
in,  and  buy  some  tickets  for  Saturday  night,  ahead  of  any 
of  them,  and  then  we  can  have  a  choice  of  seats." 

This  being  the  understanding,  a  pleasant  atmosphere 
pervaded  the  mansion  of  Blifkins,  with  the  single  excep 
tion  of  a  disturbance  in  the  kitchen,  where  Sailor  Boy,  the 
dog,  indulged  in  the  attempt  to  draw  the  cat  by  the  tail 
through  the  back  of  a  chair,  and,  pulling  the  chair  over  on 
to  him,  provoked  certain  yelps  that  brought  the  entire 


58  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

household  to  the  spot.  Blifkins  reclined  upon  the  sofa 
with  Quentin  Durward  in  his  hand,  trying  to  find  out 
something  about  Louis  XI.,  and  dropped  off  into  a  sound 
sleep,  maugre  Mrs.  Blifkins's  conversation,  which  mean 
dered  among  his  dreams  like  the  babbling  of  a  brook. 

The  sewing  circle  was  a  success,  and  Mrs.  Blifkins  feli 
citated  herself  that  the  one  held  at  Mrs.  Jones's  wasn't  a 
circumstance  to  it.  Blifkins  dined  at  the  club.  Ho  had 
purchased  his  tickets  to  see  Kean,  and  his  mind  was  as 
unperturbed  as  a  morning  in  May. 

He  thought  he  would  go  home  early  on  Saturday,  and 
get  ready  for  the  play ;  but  just  as  he  was  ready  to  start, 
as  in  the  case  of  John  Gilpin  when  about  embarking  on 
his  wedding  anniversary  excursion,  "he  saw  a  customer 
come  in,"  and,  like  the  Gilpin  aforesaid,  he  was  disposed  to 
"  cultivate  "  him.  The  customer  proved  shy  ;  stopped  a 
good  while  to  talk  about  trifles ;  introduced  a  good  many 
outside  subjects,  including  the  settlement  of  the  Alabama 
claims;  and  Blifkins,  looking  at  his  watch,  found  him 
self  a  full  hour  beyond  his  usual  time  of  leaving. 

"  Bless  my  soul  !  "  said  he  ;  "  I'd  no  idea  it  was  so  late. 
I  am  going  to  the  theatre  to-night,  and  should  have  been 
home  two  hours  ago ; "  and  calling  to  his  partner,  he 
turned  the  customer  over  to  him,  thinking  all  the  while  of 
the  reception  at  home  when  he  should  make  his  late  ap 
pearance  there.  He  well  knew  that  an  excuse  would  be  of 
no  avail,  because  the  normal  condition  of  Mrs.  B.'s  mind 
was  doubt;  she  was  prone  ever  to  see  wrong  motives,  and 
to  measure  Blifkins  by  his  weak  side.  She  ^reserved  her 
doubt  as  an  exclusive  right,  and  had  one  presumed  to 
touch  upon  it  by  insinuating  in  the  least  degree  that  Blif 
kins  was  not  immaculate  for  veracity,  there  would  be  a 
row. 

"  Well,  you've  come,"  said  she  as  he  entered  the  door. 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  59 

Adopting  the  Duke's  Motto,  in  a  gay  tone  he  replied,  — 

"  I  am  here." 

"'Tis  a  pretty  time  to  come  home!"  continued  she, 
"  when  you  know  it  takes  one  so  long  to  get  ready.  I  am 
almost  minded  not  to  go." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Blifkins,  holding  up  his  tickets,  "  I  was 
delayed  at  the  store  by  a  customer  "  — 

"  Oh,  bother  !  "  she  replied,  interrupting  him.  "  I've 
heard  that  too  many  times.  Had  any  one  else  wanted 
your  presence  or  service,  I  dare  say  the  customer  would 
not  have  prevented  you." 

Blifkins  whistled  Di  Provenza,  and  sat  down  to  a  hasty 
supper.  Mrs.  Blifkins,  with  every  thing  laid  out  prepara 
tory,  had  no  very  extensive  exertions  to  make  to  be  ready, 
and  they  were  soon  on  their  way  to  the  horse-cars,  which 
would  take  them  within  a  few  steps  of  the  theatre.  Be 
fore  leaving  the  house,  Mrs.  Blifkins  advised  him  to  take 
out  his  fare,  as  she  thought  it  wrong  for  a  man  to  expose 
his  wallet  in  the  cars ;  and  he  came  very  near  falling 
under  the  wheels  of  a  passing  wagon,  before  they  got  in, 
from  the  extra  exertion  she  made  to  keep  him  from  dan 
ger.  There  never  yet  was  a  woman  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  avoirdupois  that  did  not  think  her  protection 
necessary  to  save  her  husband  from  harm,  though  he  were 
as  big  as  Goliath  of  Gath. 

They  arrived  late  at  the  theatre,  as  some  genteel  people 
like  to  do,  and,  as  the  seats  reserved  for  him  were  in  the 
middle  of  the  longest  row  in  the  house,  there  was  much 
crowding  of  crinoline,  and  much  ruffling  of  temper,  as  they 
forced  their  way  to  the*  position  assigned  them  by  the  po 
lite  usher.  Once  seated,  they  turned  their  attention  to  the 
play,  when  Blifkins  found  that  he  had  no  bill.  He  blamed 
the  usher  very  much  for  neglecting  him  as  he  came  in, 
hi  not  giving  him  a  bill,  and  thought  about  getting  a  friend 


60  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

of  his,  who  is  a  reporter,  to  put  something  in  the  paper 
about  it. 

The  play  was  strange  to  him.  It  was  a  story  of  rob 
bery,  and  violence,  and  throat-cutting,  and  other  unpleas 
ant  things,  with  lots  of  gunpowder;  but  Blifkins  did 
not  stop  to  criticise  the  piece,  his  mind  being  absorbed 
by  the  principal  figure,  a  robber  of  a  very  superior  class 
and  fine  manners,  dressed  in  elegant  clothes,  that  he  knew 
must  be  Kean ;  every  motion  and  word  of  whom  he  de 
voured.  He  had  seen  Kean  when  he  was  in  Boston  sev 
enteen  years  before,  and  remarked  to  Mrs.  Blifkins  that  he 
didn't  seem  a  day  older  than  when  he  saw  him  last ;  to 
which  she,  not  understanding  him,  replied,  "  Yes." 

Blifkins  was  rapturous  in  his  applause.  At  every  sen 
tence  his  kids  came  together  with  the  vehemence  of  two 
goats  in  a  melee,  and  he  made  such  demonstrations  as  he 
thought  would  show  to  outsiders  that  he  knew  a  thing  or 
two  about  plays,  and  that  Kean  couldn't  get  around  his 
appreciation  of  any  point  he  might  make.  He  applauded 
some  points  so  loudly,  that  people  around  him  cried, 
"Hush !  sh-sh  !"  to  his  utter  disgust,  and  some  laughed. 

Mrs.  Blifkins  was  not  at  all  enthusiastic.  She  was  a 
woman  who  always  reserved  her  warmest  praise,  and  nev 
er  wasted  any  of  the  article  at  all.  Blifkins  was  some 
times  accustomed  to  say  that  if  she  had  been  present  at 
the  seventh  day  of  the  creation,  she  would  -have  withheld 
her  praise  till  next  day.-  She  made  no  sign  of  like  or  dis 
like,  but  sat  with  the  close  attention  that  the  great  actor 
merited,  and  'when  the  play  was  over  she  expressed  the 
wish  to  go  home. 

Blifkins  thought  that  the  highest  compliment  to  be  paid 
a  play  or  an  actor  was  to  be  content  with  it  or  him,  nor 
allow  any  other  to  compete  with  them,  and  he  assented 
without  a  murmur,  not  waiting  for  the  farce. 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  61 

"  Ah,  Blifkins,  you  here  ?  "  said  his  friend  Jolliboy,  com- . 
ing  forward  arid  shaking  him  by  the  hand ;   "  and  Mrs. 
Blifkins !  I  declare  this  is  an  unexpected  pleasure." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Blifkins ;  "  Benjamin  wished  to  see 
Kean,  and  I  thought  it  would  be  a  relief  from  household 
cares  to  come  with  Aim." 

Blifkins  didn't  think  this  was  putting  it  quite  right,  but 
said  nothing  in  reply,  merely  remarking  to  Jolliboy,  — 

"  He  plays  very  well  for  an  old  man." 

"  Not  so  old,  either,"  said  Jolliboy,  who  at  fifty  was  still 
laying  claim  to  juvenility. 

"Why,  he  must  be  near  sixty  —  over  fifty,  at  least, 
said  Blifkins,  mentally  calculating  the  difference  of  time 
betwixt  then  and  now. 

"Why,  no,"  replied  Jolliboy;  "it  can't  be  more  than 
twenty  years  since  he  went  to  school  in  South  Boston. 

"  Who  ?  "  said  Blifkins  ;  "  Charles  Kean  ?  " 

"No,  Frank  Mayo,"  replied  Jolliboy;  "  what  has  Charles 
Kean  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"Oh,  nothing!"  said  Blifkins,  squeezing  Mrs.  Blifkins's 
arm  in  order  to  keep  her  from  saying  any  thing,  seeing  that 
he  had  made  a  mistake  ;  "nothing,  only  I  was  thinking  of 
Kean  at  the  moment  —  that's  all." 

"  I  never  saw  the  character  of  Charles  de  Moor  played 
better,"  said  Jolliboy,  enthusiastically. 

"Nor  I,"  responded  Blifkins. 

Mrs.  Blifkins  said  nothing. 


62  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

X. 

BLIFKINS'S  MOONLIGHT  TRIP. 

% 

"I  NEVER  told  you  about  my  moonlight  excursion,  last 
summer,"  said  Blifkins,  smiling,  as  he  sat  and  gazed  "  upon 
the  bust  of  Pallas  just  above  our  study  door." 

There  was  something  provokingly  funny  in  his  look,  and 
he  drummed  the  "Hallelujah"  upon  the  chair,  looking  up 
at  the  bust  aforesaid,  as  though  he  were  exchanging  pri 
vate  signals  with  the  insensate  plaster. 

"  What  excursion  was  that  ?  "  we  asked,  looking  up  from 
the  work  whereon  we  were  engaged. 

He  burst  into  a  laugh  long  and  loud,  and  his  sides  shook 
again  with  the  accretive  humor  that  had  evidently  been 
gathering  strength  for  the  present  explosion,  when  it  could 
break  out  in  an  unembarrassed  atmosphere.  Such  bois- 
terousness  was  unusual  to  him,  and  indeed  it  was  offensive, 
because  the  sacredness  of  the  editorial  precinct,  given  to 
grave  meditation,  should  not  be  profaned  by  exuberance 
that  finds  voice  above  the  breath,  and  we  checked  him  by 
telling  him  not  to  make  a  donkey  of  himself  by  braying 
so  unseemly.  He  kept  on  laughing,  though  moderating 
his  tone,  and  then  said,  — 

"  In  the  Nelly  Baker."    • 

"  Why,  the  Nelly  Baker  has  stopped  running  for  a 
month,"  we  said  ;  "  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean,"  he  replied,  "  the  most  curious  thing  that  ever 
happened  to  me,  and  one  which  I  have  wanted  to  tell  you 
for  a  long  time.  I  thought  of  it  just  as  I  came  in  here, 
and  looked  at  that  bust.  Whose  is  it  ?  " 

"  Pallas." 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  63 

"  Pallas,  is  it  ?  "  he  continued  ;  "  but  it  looks  amazingly 
like  the  widow  Thompson." 

"  And  pray  who  may  be  the  widow  Thompson  ? "  we 
asked,  looking  Blifkins  in  the  eye,  and  through  that  avenue 
away  down  into  his  soul ;  u  who  is  she  ?  " 

He  smiled  mysteriously  in  reply,  still  beating  the  "  Hal 
lelujah  "  on  the  arm  of  the  chair,  and  turned  his  eyes  again 
towards  the  bust  of  Pallas. 

"  Well,  the  matter  was  here,"  he  said :  "  Spear,  of  the 
Nelly  Baker,  invited  me  to  go  down  in  the  harbor  on  one 
of  the  moonlight  excursions  that  they  had  last  summer, 
and  I  went  home  with  the  invitation  fresh  in  my  mind  to 
induce  my  wife  to  go  with  me.  The  normal  condition  of 
Mrs.  Blifkins's  mind  being  opposition,  of  course  as  soon  as 
I  mentioned  it,  with  all  the  eloquent  force  of  my  enthusi 
astic  temper,  she  met  it  with  a  rebuff  that  almost  drove  me 
out  of  the  house.  I  was,  I  confess,  a  little  discomposed 
at  this,  having  expected  a  different  reception  for  a  proposi 
tion  that  sought  her  happiness,  and  seated  myself  moodily 
by  the  table,  with  my  head  upon  my  hand,  thinking,  I 
am  constrained  to  say,  upon  other  scenes  than  those  that 
surrounded  me,  and  another  form  than  that  which  made 
the  central  figure  of  my  domestic  picture,  murmuring  to 
myself,  inside,  '  It  might  have  been.'  Excuse  the  digres 
sion  ;  but  Whittier  has  by  those  few  words  let  many  peo 
ple  into  the  secret  of  their  unhappiness  who  never  other 
wise  would  have  dreamt  of  it.  Had  he  been  a  married 
man  he  never  would  have  written  them  for  politic  reasons. 
I  was  giving  way  to  these  fancies,  when  — 

"  f  Mr.  Blifkins,'  said  my  wife,  '  you  know  I'm  tired  to 
death,  delving  and  slaving  all  day,  and  that's  the  reason 
why  you  ask  me  to  go,  I  suppose,  thinking  I  will  refuse. 
I'll  go.' 

" l  Why  will  you  impute  such  mean  motives  to  me  ?  '  I 


64  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

asked;  'must  I  be  your  devoted  slave  for  another  twenty- 
five  years  before  you  are  convinced  of  my  devotedness? ' 

"  She  made  no  reply. 

"  The  night  was  a  charming  one.  The  full  moon  made 
every  thing  bright  and  beautiful,  and  a  refreshing  breeze 
swept  over  the  water,  cooling  the  fever  that  the  day  had 
caused.  There  was  a  large  party  on  board  — *a  curious 
mixture  of  materials,  thrown  together  at  random,  and  as 
incongruous  as  well  could  be.  All  were  ripe  for  a  good 
time,  which  was  the  harmonizing  element  —  the  oil  that 
neutralized  antagonisms,  and  fused  the  mass  into  sapona 
ceous  completeness." 

"  Soap  !  "  we  said. 

"  Don't  interrupt  me,  please ;  the  simile  is  a  good  one. 
We  steamed  down  the  river  in  fine  style,  the  waves  bright 
with  moonbeams  and  sparkling  like  silver.  The  sound  of 
dashing  water  is  pleasant  to  the  ear,  and  to  me  is  sugges 
tive  of  many  dreams.  I  love  to  look  over  the  rail  and  see 
the  foamy  wake  that  follows  the  stroke  of  the  paddle- 
wheels,  and  list  to  the  hissing  murmur  that  rises  from 
the  water,  indulging  in  fantasies  that  realize  the  magic 
tales  of  Undine  and  the  Naiads.  And  it  is  not  bad 
either,  to  take  a  cigar  and  sit  by  the  prow,  and  watch  the 
bone  that  ripples  up  from  the  sharp  cutwater  in  a  gen 
tle  and  trickling  song,  as  soothing  as  a  lullaby.  On  com 
ing  aboard,  I  had  introduced  Mrs.  Blifkins'to  my  friend 
Hodges,  and  leaving  her  very  busy  in  conversation  with 
him,  I  was  strolling  to  the  forward  part  of  the  boat  to 
enjoy  a  cigar,  when  a  light  hand  was  placed  upon  my  arm 
as  I  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  the.  awning,  and  a  soft 
voice  said,  — 

"  '  Good  evening,  Mr.  Blifkins.'  " 

"  Mrs.  Thompson  ?  "  we  queried  ;  but  without  moving  his 
eyes  from  the  bust  of  Pallas,  Blifkins  went  on :  — 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  65 

"I  started  at  the  well-recognized  tones,  and  there,  un 
attended,  was  the  widow  Thompson. 

"  '  My  dear  Mrs.  Thompson/  I  said,  '  this  is  an  unex 
pected  pleasure  ;  to  what  fortunate  star  am  I  indebted  for 
this  sweet  surprise  ?  ' 

"  'That/  she  replied,  pointing  to  the  moon. 

"'Thanks,  mosf,  propitious  planet/ said  I,  with  enthu 
siasm  :  'Luna  shall  hereafter  he  my  lodestar,  and  that  "  the 
devil's  in  the  moon  for  mischief'7  shall  be  placed  among  the 
forgotten  slanders  hatched  in  the  poet's  teeming  brain.7  I 
took  her  hand  as  I  spoke,  and  then  we  stood  by  the  wheel- 
house  together,  and  talked  moonshine,  and  the  nonsense 
born  of  romance,  for  many  a  mile.  She  informed  me  that 
she  was  on  board  in  company  with  a  young  couple  who  had 
as  much  as  they  could  do  to  think  of  themselves,  without 
looking  after  her,  but  thought  it  prudent  to  join  them, 
which  she  did,  and  I  returned  to  Mrs.  Blifkins. 

"  '  You  are  very  gallant,  I  declare/  said  that  excellent 
woman,  'leaving  me  in  charge  of  others.  It  was  a  fortu 
nate  thing  that  Mr.  Hodges  was  on  board,  or  I  don't  know 
what  I  should  have  done.7 

" '  My  love,  it  shows  what  confidence  I  put  in  you/  I 
said,  trembling,  as  conscience  gave  me  a  castigating 
thump  ;  '  I  am  not  jealous,  you  know.7 

"Hodges  pretended  that  he  saw  somebody  he  wished  to 
speak  to,  and  hurried  away,  leaving  me  to  Mrs.  Blifkins. 

"  '  Been  enjoying  yourself,  I  dare  say/  said  she. 

"  '  Entirely/  replied  I ;  '  I  thought  I  would  go  forward 
and  smoke  a  cigar ;  had  an  excellent  time.7 

"  '  There  must  be  a  great  deal  of  fascination  in  a  cigar/ 
she  said,  tartly,  '  to  attract  a  man  away  from  his  wife  at 
such  a  time.7 

"  '  I  thought  you  were  very  comfortable  with  Hodges/  I 
replied  :  '  a  good  fellow  is  Hodges.7 

6* 


66  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  '  He  will  do,'  she  replied,  '  if  one  cannot  have  one's  hus 
band  to  speak  to.' 

"  I  endeavored  to  make  myself  agreeable.  I  pointed  out 
the  beauties  of  shore  and  sea;  talked  poetry,  improvised 
speeches,  essayed  apostrophes ;  but  it  all  fell  on  unheed 
ing  ears,  and  I  was  not  glad  when  the  boat  stopped  at 
Nahant. 

"  '  Hodges/  said  I,  '  look  after  my  wife  again,  will  you  ? 
Your  eloquence  has  so  eclipsed  mine  that  all  I  can  say 
fails  to  move  her.  You  are  a  fascinating  fellow  '  —  chuck 
ing  him  under  the  ribs  as  I  spoke. 

"I  was  glad  to  see  him  as  carefully  handing  her  up  the 
steep  steps  at  the  landing  as  though  she  were  made  of 
glass.  Sh&  looked  round  at  me  with  eyes  of  wonderful  in 
difference,  I  thought,  and  as  she  disappeared  above  the  bank 
I  gazed  upon  the  other  climbers,  and  close  by  my  side  was 
—  Mrs.  Thompson. 

"  '  Bless  me/  said  I,  holding  out  my  hand  ;  (  how  fortu 
nate  !  —  allow  me/  and  I  assisted  her  up. 

"  Taking  my  arm,  we  walked  along  together,  communing 
most  delightedly.  Her  delicate  hand  burned  and  palpi 
tated  on  my  coat  sleeve,  and  its  electric  influence  coursed 
through  the  veins  of  my  arm,  and  thence  to  my  heart. 

"  '  Blessings  on  the  hour  that  brought  you  here/  I  said  ; 
'  and  blessed  be  the  moon,  whose  power  moved  you  to 
come  ! ' 

"  I  hurried  away  with  Mrs.  Thompson  upon  my  arm,  and 
we  seated  ourselves  by  the  sea,  in  the.  crevice  of  a  rock 
that  the  cliffs  overhung ;  and  there,  with  the  waves  dash 
ing  at  our  feet,  we  enjoyed  the  full  beauty  of  the  scene. 
Said  I,  — 

*  In  such  a  night  as  this, 
When  the  sweet  wind  did  gently  kiss  the  trees, 
And  they  did  make  no  noise ;  in  such  a  night, 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPEKS.  67 

Troilus,  methinks,  mounted  the  Trojan  walls, 
And  sighed  his  soul  towards  the  Grecian  tents, 
Where  Cressid  lay  that  night.'  " 

"  '  Mr.  Blifkins,'  said  my  wife,  looking  round  a  projecting 
angle  of  the  rock ;  e  are  you  smoking  again  ?  ' 

11  She  disappeared  as  she  spoke,  and  we  sauntered  along 
the  sands,  throwing  pebbles  into  the  water  that  almost 
laved  our  feet,  as  happy  as  children,  and  innocent  as  the 
babes  in  the  wood.  We  stood  in  the  shadows  and  looked 
out  upon  the  sea,  heaving,  like  our  own  hearts,  with  emo 
tion,  and  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  tender  with  mel 
low  light,  and  we  sighed,  'It  might  have  been/  Her 
thoughts,  perhaps,  were  with  the  deceased  Thompson  — 
where  were  mine  ? 

" '  Mr.  Blifkins ! '  said  my  wife.  Mrs.  Thompson's  hand 
slipped  from  my  arm,  the  sea  rolled  away,  bearing  her  off 
on  its  breast,  the  rocks  settled  to  a  grave,  the  moonlight 
grew  opaque,  and  a  passing  sea-fowl  gave  me  a  smart  rap 
on  the  ear. 

" '  Mr.  Blifkins  ! '  said  my  wife,  '  wake  up/ 

"  'Has  the  boat  gone  ?  '  said  I,  starting  from  my  seat  at 
the  table  where  I  had  dozed:  'where's  Hodges  and  the 
widow  Thompson  ? ' 

" '  Who  ? '  said  my  wife,  in  a  tone  that  made  the  rims  of 
my  hat  curl  up  as  I  put  it  on  my  head.  (  WHO  ?  ' 

"  '  Nothing,  my  dear,  nothing,7  replied  I ;  '  it  was  a 
dream,  that's  all ;  and  half  of  life  is  but  little  better.7 

"  We  didn't  go  on  the  excursion.  'Tis  wonderful  how 
much  that  bust  of  Pallas  looks  like  Mrs.  Thompson." 

Said  we,  "Blifkins,  you  are  in  a  bad  way.  Drink 
cooling  fluids,  eat  no  meat,  abstain  from  stimulants.  The 
dream  of  Mrs.  Thompson  is  but  the  residuum  of  bad  fan 
cies,  and  the  sooner  you  are  rid  of  them  the  better." 


68  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

XI. 

BLIFKINS'S  SILVER  WEDDING. 

"BLIFKIXS,"  said  my  wife,  u  we  have  been  married  twen 
ty-one  years  to-day,  and  you  have  never  manifested  by  any 
demonstration,  on  the  returning  anniversary,  that  you  were 
sensible  of  the  blessing  you  enjoy.  Now  I  propose  that 
we  celebrate  our  silver  wedding." 

"Very  well,  my  dear,"  replied  I,  "have  it  your  own 
way  ;  only  it  strikes  me  that  the  twenty-fifth  anniversary  is 
the  one  that  is  usually  remembered  as  the  silver  wedding/7 

"  That  is  just  the  way  with  you,"  said  my  wife,  bursting 
into  tears,  and  showing  evident  signs  of  temper,  which,  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  have  increased  somewhat  of  late  ;  "  that's 
just  the  way  with  you." 

I  told  my  wife  that  I  was  not  sensible  of  any  particular 
"  way  "  in  the  premises,  and  begged  that  estimable  woman 
to  explain  what  she  meant ;  indeed,  I  am  not  certain  that 
I  did  not  use  the- words,  "  what  in  thunder  "  she  meant,  as 
I  frequently  hear  them  used  to  strengthen  our  idiom,  some 
what  deficient  in  emphatic  terms.  She  condescended  to 
inform  me  that  I  had,  by  leaving  it  to  her  in  the  first  place, 
manifested  my  indifference,  and  in  the  second  had  de 
stroyed  her  anticipations  by  mentioning  the  fact  of  the 
twenty -five  years'  custom  ;  as  though  only  four  years  made 
any  difference  ;  as  though  twenty-one  years  of  our  wedded 
life  had  not  been  fully  equal  to  twenty-five  of  that  of  any 
body  else. 

"  Equal  to  forty,  my  love,"  I  interposed,  "  of  some." 
My  wife  looked  at  me  inquiringly.  "  Reckoning  the  time 
by  happiness,"  I  quickly  added,  to  save  the  domestic  bark 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  69 

from  going  over  on  its  beam-ends.  I  explained  to  my 
wife  that  leaving  the  matter  to  her  was  another  proof  of 
my  confidence  in  her  wisdom  that  twenty-one  years  had 
not  shaken. 

"  Then/'  said  she,  "  Blifkins,  we  will  celebrate  our  silver 
wedding  to-day ;  because  life  is  very  uncertain,  and  we 
don't  know  what  may  happen." 

"  Very  well,"  said  I ;  "  go  ahead." 

I  went  home  at  night  a  little  later  than  usual,  and  was 
agreeably  surprised  to  find  my  wife's  mother,  and  my  wife's 
three  sisters,  and  my  wife's  two  maiden  aunts,  assembled, 
all  dressed  in  their  best  "  bib  and  tucker."  I  essayed  to 
look  cheerful ;  but  as  I  entered  I  felt  that  I  was  regarded 
as  an  offender.  My  wife  was  dressed-  in  her  black  silk,  a 
sure  augury  of  trouble,  for  that  -black  silk  ever  has  been  as 
significant  to  me  of  disaster  as  the  black  cap  of  a  chief 
justice,  assumed  while  pronouncing  sentence  of  death. 

"  How  d'  do  ?  Glad  to  see  you  ! "  I  shouted,  and  at 
tempted  to  kiss  the  sisters,  who  appeared  to  be  as  rigid  as 
those  damsels  mentioned  in  Tennyson's  "  Princess,"  offer 
ing  no  resistance,  but  caring  nothing  about  it. 

"  Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  my  wife,  "  if  you  had  been  as  ener 
getic  in  your  motions  while  walking  as  you  are  in  your 
rudeness  now,  you  would  have  been  at  home  sooner.  We 
can  judge  of  a  man's  interest  by  the  manner  in  which  he 
moves.  Anybody  else  would  have  been  home  an  hour 
sooner  than  usual  on  such  a  happy  occasion." 

"My  dear  old  wife,"  said  I,  attempting  a -mollifying  ex 
pedient  that  had  at  other  times  proved  successful,  "  be 
reasonable  "  — 

"  Yes,"  she  broke  in,  "  that  is  just  your  waj^.  I  am  the 
unreasonable  one  of  course  ;  /  cause  all  the  trouble  ;  /  am 
to  blame  for  every  thing  ;  and  as  for  being  your  old  wife, 
were  I  younger  perhaps  you  would  treat  me  differently." 


70  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

I  attempted  a  coup  de  grace  by  kissing  her,  as  she  was 
taking  a  loaf  of  cake  from  the  oven.  She  held  it  towards 
me  to  prevent  my  approach,  and  I  gave  it  a  warm  embrace, 
which  it  as  warmly  returned.  I  uttered  my  feelings  with 
a  degree  of  vehemence  that  might  have  answered  to  ex 
press  the  concentrated  spite  restrained  for  twenty-one 
years.  My  wife  screamed,  and  the  whole  party  rose  to 
their  feet,  and  held  up  their  hands  in  horror  at  the  atroci 
ty.  In  vain  I  strove  to  laugh  it  off —  the  mother-in-law 
and  the  maiden  aunts  came  over  my  spirits  like  a  cold  pack 
in  January.  The  sisters  simmered  a  little,  but  their  laugh 
sounded  to  my  perturbed  spirit  like  the  rustle  of  a  chick 
en's  feathers  trembling  at  the  appearance  of  a  hen-hawk. 
I  subsided  into  silence,  and  read  the  evening  paper. 

"  Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  rny  mother-in-law,  abruptly,  in  a 
tone  that  made  me  start  to  my  feet  as  though  I  had  been 
shot,  "  you  ought  to  feel  happy  at  the  return  of  this  joy 
ful  day." 

"  Happy  ?"  I  repeated,  my  mind  dwelling  on  the  doings 
of  the  broker's  board;  "discount  ninety-five  per  cent,  sales 
moderate." 

"  How  ?  "  she  repeated,  sharply. 

"  Very  happy,"  I  said,  correcting  myself,  and  putting  a 
jolly  emphasis  on  the  very,  relapsing  into  the  brokers 
board  again. 

"  And  I  dare  say  you  properly  value  the  treasure  you 
have  in  your  wife  ! "  said  one  of  the  maiden  aunts,  sol 
emnly. 

"Value  declining  ;  four  and  a  half,  dividend  off,"  I  said, 
thinking  of  Erie,  and  my  two  shares  that  I  had  bought  on 
speculation. 

"  How  ?  "  she  queried  in  her  turn. 

"  Most  assuredly,"  replied  I,  in  a  tone  that  testified  my 
proper  valuation  of  the  treasure. 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  71 

"  And  you  would  probably  take  the  same  step  if  you 
could  live  your  life  over  ?  "  queried  one  of  the  sisters. 

"Buyers  positively  decline  purchasing,"  said  I,  reading 
a  line  relating  to  a  class  of  fancy  stocks. 

"  How?"  aske'd  the  sister,  not  hearing  distinctly. 

"  Certainly  I  would ;  of  course,"  I  said,  redeeming  my 
imperilled  reputation  by  my  earnestness. 

.The  children  came  rushing  in,  and  in  a  few  moments  I 
forgot  my  momentary  annoyance.  The  whole  thirteen 
have  a  natural  taste  for  music ;  and  while  Juliana,  my 
eldest,  who  is  nineteen,  and  is  courted  by  a  long-limbed 
young  gentleman  in  the  city,  played  the  piano,  the  others 
engaged  in  a  pleasant  little  dance,  till  the  tea  bell  sounded, 
when  we  repaired  to  the  dining-room,  where  Mrs.  Blifkins 
had  prepared  our  little  repast.  Every  thing  was  com 
memorative  of  the  event.  There  were  twenty-one  plates 
upon  the  table,  twenty-one  cups  and  saucers,  twenty-one 
spoons,  twenty-one  knives  and  forks,  twenty-one  slices  of 
bread,  and  twenty-one  pieces  of  pie. 

"  Sit  down  and  eat,"  said  I,  "  in  welcome  at  our  table." 

"  Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  my  wife,  "  check  your  exuberance, 
please,  and  act  more  like  the  head  of  a  family  of  twenty- 
one  years'  standing.  Pay  a  little  attention  to  your  guests, 
do.  You  don't  seem  to  have  any  more  idea  of  waiting 
upon  a  table  than  nothing  at  all." 

It  was  an  old  comparison  of  hers,  though  perhaps  it 
mi glit  be  objected  to  on  the  ground  of  grammatical  im 
propriety.  I  immediately  did  the  honors  in  my  most  ap 
proved  manner. 

u  What  were  your  emotions  twenty-one  years  ago  this 
minute  ?  "  said  my  mother-in-law,  stirring  her  tea. 

"  To  the  nearest  of  my  recollection,"  said  I,  "  I  had  just 
smoked  a  bad  cigar,  and  my  emotions  were  any  thing  but 
agreeable." 


72  PARTINGTONIAN   PATCHWOBK. 

"How  unfeeling!"  was  echoed  around  the  circle. 

My  wife  didn't  look  altogether  so  amiable,  I  thought,  as 
she  had  twenty-one  years  before.  The  supper  came  to  an 
end,  and  all  adjourned  to  the  parlor.  I  went  slyly  down 
stairs,  and  brought  up  a  couple  of  silver-necked  bottles,  and 
held  them  behind  me.  "I  can,"  said  I,  "call  spirits  from 
"the  vasty  deep." 

"  Can  you?  " said  one  of  the  aunts;  "then  you  must  be 
a  mejuin." 

"  Certainly  I  am,"  replied  I ;  "  come  up  here,  my  spirits, 
and  let  us  keep  our  spirits  up  by  putting  spirits  down." 

I  produced  the  bottles,  and  one  of  the  circle  said,  "  He  is 
sich  a  man  !  " 

"Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  my  wife,  "think  of  the  example  you 
are  setting  your  children." 

"  I'll  think  of  it,  my  dear,"  said  I,  cutting  the  wire.  Pop ! 
went  the  cork,  followed  by  a  discharge  that  flew  all  over 
mother-in-law's  silk  dress. 

"  Pray  be  careful,  Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  my  Tvife. 

"  Ladies,"  said  I,  "  allow  me  to  fill  your  glasses  for  a 
toast:  The  State  of  Matrimony — of  which  we  to-day 
have  become  citizens  through  a  twenty-one  years7  residence 
—  may  it  always  be  the  brightest  star  in  the  union." 

The  toast  was  drank,  and  Juliana  played,  at  my  mother- 
in-law's  request,  "  Meddelsome's  Wedding  March." 

Said  I,  "  Ladies,  I  am  not  a  poet,  but  I  have  been  en 
deavoring  to  write  something  to-day  expressive  of  my  feel 
ings  for  this  great  occasion  —  I  may  say  the  anniversary 
of  the  greatest  occasion  of  my  life.  It  is  the  excuse  that 
I  have  to  offer  for  my  tardiness."  My  wife  looked  amia 
ble  then.  "If  you  will  listen  I  will  read  what  I  have  writ 
ten."  I  then  proceeded,  with  my  usual  excellence  of  tone 
and  gesture,  that  always  win  applause  at  the  club,  to  read 
the  following :  — 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  73 


MY  TWENTY-FIRST  WEDDING  DAY. 

Twenty-one  years  !  —  and  it  weren't  at  all  strange 

If  in  that  time  had  happened  many  a  change  j 

The  jolly  young  boy,  in  waist  but  a  span, 

Is  now  a  married  and  corpulent  man  ; 

And  my  wife,  then  a  damsel  so  tender  and  shy, 

Is  as  fat  as  a  seal,  and  equally  spry. 

I've  sown  my  wild  oats  ;  I've  cut  all  the  crew 
With  whom  in  my  youth  I  put  matters  through  ; 
I  gave  up  cigars  as  a  tribute  to  love, 
And  punch,  that  I  prized  all  comforts  above ; 
I  have  put  all  pleasures  of  old  under  ban, 
Determined  to  live  like  a  true  married  man. 

"With  my  children  around  me,  my  wife  by  my  side, 
Who's  as  dear  to  me  now  as  when  first  my  bride', 
I  envy  not  those  who  are  soaking  their  clay, 
Or  are  burning  their  lives  in  tobacco  away, 
Content  to  remain  here  just  as  I  am, 
As  happy  as  is  at  high  water  a  clam. 

Let  fate  do  its  best,  or  its  worst,  as  it  may ; 
All  luck  is  but  accident,  just,  of  a  day  ; 
The  good  and  the  bad,  the  sorrows  and  joys, 
Are  nothing  at  all  but  trifles  and  toys ; 
I'll  sit  at  my  ingle,  and  say,  as  they  fly, 
I'm  watching  the  harvest  to  come  by  and  by. 

"Mr.  Blifkins,"  said  my  wife,  in  a  severe  spirit  of  criti 
cism,  clouding  up  again,  "hadn't  you  better  specify  that  it 
is  the  anniversary  of  the  Twenty-First  Wedding  Day,' be- 


74  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

cause  unborn  generations,  who  may  read  it,  may  suppose 
you  was  married  twenty-one  times,  which  is  not  to  i>e  sup 
posed  of  any  man." 

I  accepted  the  amendment,  when  she  submitted  that 
likening  her  to  a  seal  was  not  very  complimentary,  and 
as  for  her  being  fat,  she  weighed  but  one  hundred  and 
eighty! 

Tbe  evening  passed  very  pleasantly.  The  champagne 
did  the  business.  Before  we  parted,  my  mother-in-law 
embraced  me,  and  avowed  for  the  thousandth  time  that 
no  one  could  have  a  better  son-in-law ;  the  maiden  aunts 
were  tractable,  and  the  sisters  stood  still,  like  sensible  girls, 
to  be  kissed ;  and  thus  ended  my  Silver  Wedding. 


XII. 
BLIFKINS  THE  BACCHANAL'. 

"  Do  I  look  like  a  debauchee  ?  "  said  Blifkins,  as  he  came 
in  the  morning  after  the  He-union  of  the  Jollibo}^  at  Par 
ker's.  We  told  him  that  we  didn't  think  he  did.  We 
turned  him  round  to  the  light,  so  that  we  could  look  into 
his  eyes.  They  were  as  clear  as  a  bell,  and  as  full  of  laugh 
as  an  egg  is  full  of  meat. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  ?  "  we  said,  as  he  sat  down  on  the  dam 
ask  lounge  in  our  back  room,  in  front  of  the  great  mirror 
that  had  in  the  early  days  of  the  republic  reflected  the  fea 
tures  of  the  Father  of  his  Country.  He  looked  up,  with 
a  very  roguish  expression,  as  he  said,  "  Mrs.  Blifkins," 
and  broke  out  with  a  laugh  thsjt  shook  things.  We  took 
another  look  at  him,  to  ascertain  if  our  first  impression 
wore  not  wrong,  for  it  seemed  to  us  that  a  sober  man 
would  not  have  acted  thus.  He  cooled  down,  and  then 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPEES.  75 

again  attempted  to  explain  the  reason  for  his  mirth.  Af 
ter  several  commencements  he  managed  to  tell  his  story. 

"  Mrs.  Blifkins  will  have  it  that  I  was  tight "  said  he, 
"  though  tl>ere  isn't  a  Jolliboy  that  will  not  say  I  was 
right  as  a  trivet.  It  was  about  three  when  I  got  home, 
and  when  I  unlocked  the  door  there  stood  Mrs.  Blifkins 
in  a  spirit  of  patience,  and  a  long  flannel  bed-gown,  waiting 
for  me. 

"  '  So  you've  come/  said  she,  as  I  entered. 

"I  assured  her  that  such  was  the  fact,  and  asked  her  if 
she  wasn't  afraid  that  getting  up  so  early  would  be  injuri 
ous  to  her  health.  Whereupon  she  informed  me  that  her 
health  was  the  last  thing  I  cared  for  —  that  no  man  who 
cared  for  his  wife's  health  would  expose  her  to  the  danger 
of  sitting  up  till  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  he  away 
indulging  in  dissipation. 

" '  But/  said  I,  f  my  dear,  there  was  no  need  of  your  sit 
ting  up.  I  was  fully  competent  to  take  care  of  myself.  I 
have  that  prudent  regard  for  myself  that  never  leads  me 
over  the  bounds  of  sobriety,  and  to-night,  in  particular,  I 
am  wonderfully  correct.7 

"  I  attempted  to  salute  her,  but  she  drew  back  with  a  con 
temptuous  and  deprecating  'Faugh!'  as  though  she  de 
tected  odors  of  bacchanalian  haunts  in  my  breath.  But  I 
saw  that  a  change  was  coming  over  her  face,  and  she  im 
mediately  assumed  the  patronizing  and  sympathetic. 

"'Come,  Mr.  Blifkins/  said  she;  'you  had  better  go  to 
bed,  and  sleep  it  off.  Your  head  will  ache  fearfully  in  the 
morning,  and  serve  you  right,  because  a  man  with  a  fami 
ly  ought  to  know  better  than  to  make  such  a  brute  of  him 
self.' 

"  '  But,  my  dear/  said  I,  interrupting  her,  e  I  assure  you 
your  fears  are  groundless.  See  me  walk  that  seam  in  the 
carpet.7 


76  PAUTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

"  I  attempted  it ;  but  I  stepped  on  a  confounded  marble 
that  one  of  the  'children  had  dropped  on  the  floor,  and 
came  nigh  falling  down. 

"  '  I  knew  so/  she  sighed ;  '  what  a  pity  !  But  I  am  used 
to  it.  I  am  glad  the  children  are  not  up  to  witness  their 
father's  disgrace  —  little  dears/ 

"  '  But  I'm  not/  cried  I,  trying  to  save  my  credit. 

"  '  Don't  say  another  word/  said  she :  *  go  to  bed,  an^l 
sleep  it  off.' 

"  I  made  no  further  parley,  but  walked  up  stairs,  and  in 
five  minutes  was  enjoying  the  sleep  that  only  the  innocent 
know.  When  I  awoke  in  the  morning,  Mrs.  Blifkins  was 
standing  over  me  with  the  most  severely  virtuous  face  I 
ever  knew  her  to  wear. 

"  '  Well/  said  she,  e  I  dare  say  your  head  aches  finely  this 
morning  —  good  enough  for  you,  and  all  such  as  indulge 
in  such  practices.' 

"  '  Nary  a  headache/  said  I,  sitting  up  in  bed ;  '  never 
felt  better  in  my  life.  Give  us  a  cup  of  chocolate,  and  I 
will  soon  join  you.' 

"  '  Chocolate  ! '  said  she ;  (  chocolate  after  a  debauch  ! 
You  mean  a  cup  of  strong  tea/ 

"  I  thought  of  Mrs.  Joe  Gargery's  tar  water,  and  said  no 
more.  She  was  determined,  I  saw,  that  I  was  '  an  exam 
ple/  although  I  assure  you,  on  my  word  as  a  member  of 
the  Association  for  the  Promotion  of  Universal  Good,  that 
I  was  as  straight  as  a  die.  Isn't  it  strange  ?  " 

We  assured  Blifkins  that  the  saying,  "  Once  a  rogue,  al 
ways  suspected/'  applied  to  him,  and  that  he  ought  to  be 
grateful  for  the  never-tiring  interest  thus  disposed  to  watch 
over  his  unguardedness  j  but  he  didn't  see  it. 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  77 


XIII. 
BLIFKINS  THE  HORTICULTURIST. 

IT  may  not.  be  very  generally  known  that  Mr.  Blifkins 
has  bought  him  a  new  house  lately,  on  a  new  street ;  and 
since  he  came  in  possession  of  it  he  has  devoted  himself 
to  deep  thought,  and  taken  counsel  of  others,  regarding 
the  improvement  of  his  "grounds,"  as  he  terms  the  en 
closure  that  forms  his  lot.  He  had  a  high  respect  for  hor 
ticulture  from  early  associations, — had,  indeed,  while  a 
mere  boy  in  the  country,  raised  considerable  fruit,  much 
to  the  surprise  of  his  friends  as  to  how  he  came  by  it,  — 
and  he  determined  to  devote  this  spot  to  horticultural  pur 
poses,  looking  forward  to  the  time  when  he  should  be  able 
to  sit  under  his  own  vine  and  eat  his  own  fig  tree. 

Friends  advised  this,  that,  and  the  other,  each  one  elo 
quently  advocating  his  particular  plan  as  the  best  to  beau 
tify  and  benefit.  One  advocated  flowers,  another  favored 
arboriculture,  another  dwelt  on  the  beauty  of  a  lawn, 
another  gave  conclusive  arguments  in  favor  of  a  green 
house. 

"  Why,  any  one  can  see,  with  half  an  eye,"  said  Mrs. 
Blifkins,  "  that  it  is  beautiful  for  pears ;  but  I  don't  sup 
pose  my  advice  is  worth  any  thing,  as  it  is  never  asked." 

"  Your  advice  is  excellent,  my  dear,"  said  Blifkins,  rap- 
tuously;  "  never  was  man  blessed  with  so  wise  and  sweet 
a  counsellor :  a  perfect  Solomon  in  petticoats." 

This  last  was  uttered  as  an  "  aside,"  it  being  regarded  a 
precarious  venture. 

Full  of  his  idea  of  stocking  his  place  with  pears,  he  im- 


78  PA-KTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

mediately  visited  all  the  nurseries  in  the  vicinity,  to  con 
sult  catalogues  in  order  to  get  the  best  varieties.  It  was 
a  severe  tax  upon  his  time,  but  he  resolved  to  get  the  best. 
He  saw  many  scores  of  names  that  he  didn't  understand, 
for  which  he  felt  a  profound  respect ;  and  of  those  he  se 
lected  a  half  dozen  with  the  most  formidable  and  unintelli 
gible  titles,  assured  that  he  had  got  just  the  thing.  The 
trees  looked  thrifty,  the  green  just  coming  out  —  his  own 
case  he  thought  —  and  engaging  an  Irish  gardener —  "  born 
wid  a  shpade  in  his  fist,"  as  he  averred  —  he  soon  saw  the 
trees  transferred  to  his  grounds,  sods  beautifully  plastered 
over  the  bare  patches,  and  the  place  really  assumed  the 
look  of  cultivation.  But,  alas !  the  chill  winds  did  not 
agree  with  the  tender  trees ;  the  cool  air  and  the  heat  of 
the  sun,  acting  in  opposition,  killed  the  shoots  between 
them,  as  Mr.  Pickwick  came  nigh  being  overwhelmed  be 
tween  the  two  belligerent  editors. 

"  You've  got  a  glorious  place  there  for  a  grape  vine," 
said  Mr.  Planit,  his  neighbor,  looking  over  the  dividing  line 
between  the  two  lots j  "'twill  fit  over  that  balustrade 
splendidly." 

"  'Twill  shut  out  the  sun,"  said  Mrs.  Blifkins,  overhear 
ing  the  remark. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  my  dear  madam,"  replied  he,  "more 
than  is  agreeable ;  a  grape  vine  is  just  like  a  child  —  train 
it  up,  and  away  it  goes." 

Mrs.  Blif kins  did  not  take  very  strong  ground  in  opposi 
tion,  though  she  afterwards  mentioned  to  Blifkins  private 
ly  that  she  thought  Mr.  Planit  had  a  great  deal  of  pre 
sumption  in  recommending  it;  that  some  folks'  impu 
dence  led  them  a  great  ways  in  meddling  with  other  folks' 
business. 

"  Why,"  said  the  neighbor,  taking  up  the  thread  of  his 
remark  regarding  the  vine,  "  the  first  year  you'll  have  at 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  79 

least  a  bushel ;  next  year,  two ;  and  in  five  years  you'll 
have  grapes  enough  to  supply  the  town." 

Even  Mrs.  Blifkins  melted  before  this  delicious  argu 
ment,  and  the  vine  was  decided  upon. 

Blifkins  immediately  visited  Sweetwater,  the  gardener, 
who  had  vines  to  sell. 

"There,"  said  Sweetwater,  holding  up  a  piece  of  stick 
about  as  big  as  a  lead  pencil ;  "  there's  a  grape,  now,  that 
I  can  recommend ;  a  choice  kind ;  a  hybrid  betwixt  a  '  Je 
rusalem  Pucker '  and  a  '  Huckleberry  Twist ; '  berries  as 
big  as  grape  shot,  sweet  as  sirup,  and  three  weeks  earlier 
than  any  other  variety." 

"But  that's  dead  —  isn't  it?"  said  Blifkins,  touching  the 
twig  suspiciously. 

"  Dead !  bless  your  soul,  no ! "  he  replied ;  "  do  you  see 
that?"  pointing  to  a  rough  spot  on  the  bark;  "that's  a 
fruit  bud,  and  that,  and  that,"  pointing  to  other  rough 
places :  "  'tis  one  of  the  most  healthy  vines  I've  got. 
Plant  it,  and  it  will  grow  like  Jonah's  gourd." 

Blifkins  bought  it,  took  it  home,  and  prepared  to  plant  it. 

"You're  not  going  to  plant  it  yourself?"  said  PJanit, 
putting  his  head  up  on  the  top  of  the  fence. 

Blifkins  thought  he  should. 

"You'd  better  get  a  gardener  to  do  it, — begin  right, 
and  always  right ;  a  good  grape  will  pay  for  all  care." 

So  Blifkins  went  to  the  original  "  Shpade,"  and,  enga 
ging  him  to  plant  the  vine,  proceeded  quietly  to  his  busi 
ness.  About  an  hour  after,  while  employed  in  some  par 
ticular  matter,  an  Irish  head,  hatless,  protruded  through 
his  door,  and  the  body  of  his  friend  "  Shpade  "  appeared 
soon  after. 

"  Plase,  sir,"  said  he,  "if  yez  haven't  got  any  bones, — 
and  bones  is  allers  best,  —  it  ud  want  about  two  loads  of 
manure,  yer  honor." 


80  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  What  docs ! "  cried  Blifkins,  in  amazement. 

"  The  grape  vine,  sir,"  said  Spade. 

"The  deuse!"  replied  Blifkins;  "well,  go  to  Drury  and 
get  what  you  want,  and  send  the  bill  to  me." 

Off  went  Spade,  and  Blifkins  resumed  his  business  till 
dinner  time,  going  home  then  to  witness  the  progress  of 
his  horticultural  experiment.  He  could  see  nothing  of 
Spade.  An  immense  heap  of  dirt  lay  before  him,  while 
on  one  side  was  a  black  and  offensive  pile  as  high  as  his 
head. 

"  A  pretty  piece  of  work  you've  made  of  it ! "  said  Mrs. 
Blifkins,  thrusting  her  head  out  of  a  window  over  the  bal 
cony,  and  drawing  it  in  again,  as  if  offended  with  the  odor. 

"I  think  so,"  said  Blifkins.  " Where's  Spade?  — 
Spade ! " 

"  Here,  yer  honor,"  responded  a  voice  the  other  side  of  the 
heap,  as  though  it  came  out  of  a  grave  ;  and  at  that  instant 
a  shovelful  of  earth  fell  at  his  feet.  He  climbed  up  on  the 
pile,  and  beheld  the  original  digger  delving  like  a  gopher 
at  the  bottom  of  a  huge  hole,  as  earnestly  as  though  he 
were  working  a  new  mine,  and  was  anxious  to  get  enough 
specimens  together  to  secure  it  a  place  on  the  list  at  the 
brokers'  board. 

"What  in  the  name  of  Moses  are  you  doing?"  said  Blif 
kins,  in  some  heat. 

"Making  the  bed  for  the  vine,  sir,"  said  Spade,  wiping 
his  forehead. 

Blifkins  took  the  vine  in  his  fingers  —  it  hadn't  grown 
an  inch  —  looked  at  the  hole,  and  the  heap  of  manure,  and 
the  Irishman,  and  then  went  into  the  house  to  look  at  Mr£. 
Blifkins. 

To  say  that  that  estimable  woman  was  disturbed  would 
not  be  exaggerating  the  fact.  She  was.  She  had  in  her 
mind's  eye  imagined  an  umbrageous  growth  of  green,  that 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  81 

at  the  very  outset  would  flourish  —  she  was  too  impatient 
to  wait  for  ordinary  results.  But  she  had  the  good  sense 
to  see  that  Blifkins  was  troubled,  and  simply  remarking 
tli at  he.  might  have  known  it  would  be  so,  and  if  he  had 
taken  her  advice,  —  which  she  never  expected  him  to  do,  — 
it  would  have  been  different,  he  ate  his  dinner  in  silence, 
going  down  town  thereafter  as  quietly  as  possible.  On 
going  home  at  night  he  found  the  planting  completed.  The 
sward  was  blackened  by  the  fouling  dirt ;  but  there  was  the 
lead  pencil  planted,  come  what  might  of  it,  and  done,  too, 
as  Mr.  Planit  had  advised,  thoroughly. 

The  next  day  the  Irish  head  appeared  again,  the  body 
immediately  after,  and  Mr.  Spade  presented  the  following 
little  bill :  — 

"  Misther  Bliff kens  to  Mich.  Spade  dether, 

To  too  lodes  manoor,  witch  it  is  pade  fur  meeslf  out  ov 

my  one  pokit,  not  wishen  to  trubble  a  gintleman  .        .       $6.00 
To  doin  bed  for  graipe  vyne ••      .        5.50 

Tottle,  $11.50 

Receept  pay,  MICH.  SPADE." 

Blifkins  paid  the  bill,  thinking  all  the  while  he  had  been 
more  thoroughly  "  done  "  than  the  vine. 


XIV. 
BLIFKINS    THE    LINGUIST. 

WE  had  not  met  Blifkins  for  some  time,  and  were  much 
pleased  to  see  his  round,  good-humored  face  thrust  through 
an  opening  in  the  door,  and  to  hear  his  voice  salute  us  with 
its  old-time  sincerity  of  tone,  for  there  is  the  genuine  ring 
of  honesty  in  his  "  How  are  ye  ?  "  which,  though  not  mean- 


82  PAET1NGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

ing  any  thing  in  particular,  always  gives  us  a  pleasure  to 
hear  it.  He  came  in.  and  seated  himself,  hung  his  hat  on 
the  antlered  tree  that  graces  our  sanctorum,  and  knocking 
the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  he  began  to  speak  of  the  news. 
We  asked  him  where  he  had  kept  himself,  and  he  said  he 
had  been  engaged  in  a  little  speculation  that  had  taken 
him  from  the  city.  He  had  been  travelling,  he  said ;  had 
explored  oil-wells  and  coal-mines,  Tiad  made  a  thousand 
acquaintances,  and  had  had  a  big  time  generally. 

"A  queer  thing  happened  to  me  last  night,"  said  he. 
He  looked  funnily,  as  though  he  were  internally  chuckling 
with  a  thought  that  must  have  expression. 

"  Out  with  it,"  we  said,  "  and  don't  keep  it,  like  a  hen 
looking  abouf  to  steal  a  nest." 

"  Well,"  replied  he,  "  I  will  not.  You  see  my  new  friend 
Spratt,  of  Titusville,  was  on  here,  and  was  engaged  in  a 
little  business  transaction  that  also  concerned  me ;  so  I 
thought  I  would  take  him  round  some,  maugre  the  admo 
nition  of  my  wife  that  I  had  better  know  whom  I  associated 
with,  and  that  married  men  had  better  stay  at  home.  I 
accordingly  took  him  to  see  Booth,  and  after  enjoying  a 
portion  of  the  cheerful  play  of  Macbeth,  we  went  out  to  re 
fresh  ourselves  with  a  mouthful  of  fresh  air,  or  its  equiv 
alent.  We  sauntered  into  a  restaurant  that  looked -neat  and 
cheerful,  and  getting  seated  comfortably,  I  proposed  that  we 
should  have  a  steak  and  a  cup  of  coffee,  which  were  ordered, 
and  we  enjoyed-  a  half  hour  of  pleasant  converse  —  plunged 
into  caves  of  coal,  swam  in  rivers  of  oil,  and  talked  our 
selves  into  immense  fortunes.  We  saw  ourselves  million- 
naires,  with  coaches  and  horses ;  with  costly  houses  in  town, 
and  summer  villas  in  the  country"  — 

"  The  effect  of  the  coffee  ?  "  we  queried  j  but  he  took  no 
note  of  it. 

"And  so  on,  till  the  time  of  leaving  arrived,  when  I 


THE  BLIEKINS  PAPERS.  83 

arose  and  stepped  to  the  counter  to  settle  the  bill,  throw 
ing  down  a  two  dollar  greenback.  The  gentleman  .behind 
the  counter  took  the  bill  in  his  fingers,  turned  it  over  and 
looked  at  its  back,  then  turned  it  over  again,  as  if  to  satisfy 
himself  of  its  genuineness,  while  I  waited  to  receive  my 
change.  He  was,  I  saw,  a  French  gentleman  that  was 
waiting  upon  me,  or,  rather,  upon  whom  I  was  waiting,  and 
I  said  to  him  in  as  good  French  as  I  could  muster,  — 

"  '  Pardonnez  moi ;  I  wantez  mon  chango.' 

"I  saw  that  he  looked  at  me  somewhat  surprised,  as  if 
he  hadn't  expected  me  to  speak  in  his  '  native  vermicular/ 
but  made  no  sign  of  paying  me. 

"  '  Monsieur,7  said  I,  '  etes-vous  Francais  and  avez-vous 
de  postage  currency  ?  ? 

"  '  N'importe/  replied  he,  shrugging  his  shoulders, '  beau- 
coup  de  postage-stamps  ! ' 

"  I  felt  my  indignation  rising. 

" '  I  demandez  de  7echange/  said  I. 

" t  Four  dolliar  and  a  quartier/  said  he,  tapping  the  bill 
of  fare. 

"  '  What ! 7  said  I,  in  a  surprised  roar. 

"'Morbleu!7  said  he,  in  a  manner  considerably  excited, 
running  his  finger  down  the  bill  of  fare ;  '  four  dolliar  and 
a  quartier ;  biftek,  pommes  de  terre,  pain,  moutard,  pot 
pourri,  beurre,  etc.  Four  dolliar  and  a  quartier,  messieu.7 

"I  remembered  that  there  had  been  certain  patches 
upon  the  table  of  minute  proportions,  and  not  wishing  to 
appear  small  before  my  guest,  I  handed  him  three  dollars 
more. 

"'Ah/  said  he,  'where  was  I  thought?  bigar,  I  forgot 
ze  cafe  noir.  It  is  four  feefty,  messieu.7 

" { Well,  well/  I  replied,  now  speaking  in  my  mother 
tongue,  for  indignation  rather  overcame  my  French  man 
ners,  'give  me  back  my  change,  and  be  hanged  to  you; 


84  PARTINGTONIAN   PATCHWOKK. 

for  if  you  read  that  bill  of  fare  again,  you  will  take  every 
cent  I've  got  in  the  world.' 

"He  grinned  as  he  gave  it  me,  and  said,  in  very  excel 
lent  English,  '  That's  so.7 

"  I've  found  out  since  that  he  was  born  in  Vermont,  and 
wasn't  any  Frenchman  at  all. 

"  When  I  got  home  I  had  to  take  a  severe  lecture  from 
Mrs.  Blifkins  on  the  loose  habits  of  the  times,  who  re 
peated,  what  I  had  become  rather  accustomed  to,  that  all 
men  who  were  heads  of  families  should  be  at  home  even 
ings,  and  not  be  gallivanting  round  with  this  or  that  per 
son,  or  going  to  places,  where,  perhaps,  their  wives  might 
not  follow  them.  I  dropped  to  sleep  right  in  the  middle 
of  her  lecture ;  but  it  kept  oil  buzzing  in  my  ear  till,  in  my 
sleeping  fancy,  I  conceived  myself  tormented  by  a  swarm 
of  blue-bottled  flies,  that  flew  round  and  round  me  with  a 
fearful  din,  from  which  I  could  not  escape ;  that  after 
being  subjected  to  it  for  a  year,  I  wras  relieved  by  a 
tornado  that  swept  them  all  into  the  sea.  I  waked  up  as 
the  clock  struck  twelve,  having  been  to  sleep  but  fifteen 
minutes,  while  Mrs.  B.  was  snoring  vehemently  by  my 
side." 

This  was  Blifkins's  story.  Not  much  of  a  story,  either, 
to  those  who  see  more  of  the  world  ;  but  Benjamin  Blifkins, 
the  domestic  and  patient,  makes  a  mountain  of  such  little 
episodes,  and  it  delights  us  to  listen  to  them. 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  85 

» 

XV. 
BLIFKINS'S  DOG  SAILOR  BOY. 

ABOUT  a  month  after  lie  had  bought  the  dog  Sailor  Boy, 
and  the  remembrance  of  the  fifteen  dollars  he  had  paid  for 
him  had  mellowed  into  an  indistinct  idea  of  a  rather  profit 
able  investment,  Blifkins  went  home  one  day  in  a  very 
happy  frame  of  mind.  Pie  had  that  morning  made  a  suc 
cessful  speculation,  and  had,  by  a  most  delightful  accident, 
found  company  in  the  car  up  town  that  had  smoothed  the 
wrinkles  completely  out  of  his  temper,  rendering  his  feel 
ings  as  beatific  as  they  were  susceptible  of  being.  He 
applied  his  latch-key,  humming,  "Ever  be  Happy,"  and 
entered  his  door  with  a  bound.  He  was  met  by  the  chill 
that  one  at  times  feels  when  the  wind  comes  round  sudden 
ly  east  on  a  warm  day  —  a  sort  of  home  atmosphere  that 
the  over-ardent  will  at  times  encounter,  providentially  to 
save  them  from  a  too  exuberant  state  of  feeling. 

"What's  the  matter,  my  love ?"  said  he,  as  he  saw  Mrs. 
Blifkins  coming  towards  him  from  the  darkened  side  of 
the  hall.  "  Any  good  news  to  tell  me  ?  You  are  looking 
remarkably  pleasant." 

He  spoke  at  random,  for  he  could  not  see  distinctly  how 
she  looked ;  but  he  felt  that  trouble  was  brewing  for  him 
—  conscience  jogging  his  memory  regarding  his  recent 
contraband  mile  of  enjoyment  in  the  omnibus  with  one 
whose  name,  in  that  precinct,  would  be  a  signal  for  an 
immediate  storm.  He  felt  timid  lest  some  winged  spirit 
of  the  air  had  anticipated  his  arrival,  and  had  revealed  his 
innocent  delinquency,  as  Mrs.  Blifkins  came  out  into  the 
brighter  light,  and  he  saw  her  face  red  and  hot,  looking  as 


86  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

though  she  had  been  assisting  the  cook  in  frying  dough 
nuts.  It  is  bad  when  the  happiness  of  one  is  the  bane  of 
another,  and  harmless  indulgences  are  concealed  from 
either  through  dread  of  a.  scene — a  prudential  measure 
rendered  necessary,  but  which  is  to  be  deprecated,  never 
theless  ;  and  Blifkins,  from  being  one  of  the  most  in 
genuous  men  in  the  world,  had  become  so  close,  that  he  hesi 
tated  about  telling  Mrs.  B.  what  o'clock  it  was,  when  asked, 
for  fear  it  might  involve  the  necessity  of  an  explanation. 

"  If  I  look  very  pleasant,  I  don't  feel  so,"  said  she,  with 
a  slight  degree  of  tartar  in  her  tone. 

"  Just  as  I  feared,"  Blifkins  thought  to  himself,  but 
mustered  courage  enough  to  repeat  his  question,  "What  is 
the  matter  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  afraid  all  along  that  that  dog  would  cause 
us  trouble  ;  and  now  it  has  come  — just  through  your  per 
sistence  in  keeping  the  brute." 

His  persistence  !  This,  when  he  remembered  one  weary 
day's  search  for  him,  through  her  own  wish  to  have  the 
dog  found  after  he -had  turned  him  out  of  doors.  It  was 
provoking,  but  Benjamin  Blifkins  had  long  ago  taken  a  posi 
tion  on  principle  that  he  would  not  be  disturbed  in  temper 
by  man  or  woman  ;  and  should  he  now  abandon  a  principle 
so  well  maintained  on  account  of  a  woman  and  a  fifteen- 
dollar  dog  V  No ;  forbid  it,  consistency ! 

"Get  out,  you  good-for-nothing  dog!"  cried  Mrs.  Blif 
kins,  vehemently,  much  to  his  surprise,  imagining  the  re 
mark  made  to  himself;  but  following  the  direction  of  her 
eye,  he'  saw  "  Sailor  Boy  "  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  wag 
ging  his  tail  violently,  with  a  very  curious  expression  of 
countenance,  —  as  if  of  half  fun  and  half  fear,  —  but  not 
daring  to  come  down.  As  Blifkins  caught  his  eye,  he 
rubbed  his  nose  with  his  paw,  very  intelligently,  looked 
significantly  at  Mrs.  Blifkins,  and  disappeared. 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  87 

"What's  the  matter  ?  "   said  Blifkins,  for  the  third  time. 

"  Frederick  Augustus  !  "  she  cried,  naming  the  youngest 
boy,  "come  down  here  and  show  your  papa  what  the 
naughty  dog  has  done  !  " 

The  boy  came  when  called,  with  his  forehead  bound 
round  with  a  handkerchief. 

"  Show  papa  where  the  dog  hurt  you  ;  but  I  suppose  he 
wouldn't  care  if  we  were  all  killed  by  the  worthless  brute. 
Dear,  dear,,  what  cares  a  mother  has  !  I  don't  know  what 
would  become  of  the  children  if  it  wasn't  for  mothers  ! " 

This  was  uttered  with  a  half  sob,  as  Frederick  Augustus 
unbound  his  head,  and  revealed,  beneatli  the  customary 
brown  paper  and  rum,  a  dark  bruise  upon  the  forehead  as 
big  as  a  dime. 

"  There,  that's  what  your  beautiful  dog  did,"  said  Mrs. 
Blifkins,  in  atone  of  triumph,  as  though  she  were  delighted 
with  the  prospect ;  "  and  it  is  a  mercy,  I  am  sure,  that  his 
skull  was  not  crushed  and  his  brains  spread  all  about  the 
floor."  . 

Blifkins  looked  at  the  contusion,  and  heard  the  agony 
culminate  with  wonderful  equanimity,  almost  justifying  Mrs. 
Blifkins's  charge  of  indifference.  He  saw  that  no  great 
harm  had  been  done,  because  the  boy's  appetite  had  not 
failed  him,  as  he  was  then  engaged  upon  an  extensive  un 
dertaking  of  bread  and  butter,  a  sharpener  of  his  appetite 
for  dinner. 

"  How  did  he  hurt  you,  Bub  ?  "  said  Blifkins,  stooping 
down  and  parting  his  hair. 

"  Frowed  me  down  stairs,"  replied  Frederick  Augustus, 
blowing  a  cloud  of  crumbs  upon  his  patera al's  shirt  bosom. 

This  charge' looked  serious,  and  casting  his  eyes  up  he 
saw  that  Sailor  Boy  had  returned,  and  was  lying  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  with  his  head  stretched  out  upon  his 
paws,  the  picture  of  innocence,  as  if  listening  to  the  testi- 


88  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

mony  against  his  character  that  was  being  heard  in  the 
"  court  below." 

"  Tell  papa  how  it  was,"  said  Blifkins,  coaxingly. 

"  Ride  on  Sailor  Boy's  back  — fall  down,"  was  the  reply, 
making  an  angry  gesture  towards  the  dog  with  his  fist,  as 
big  as  a  cent  apple. 

"  'Tis  wonderful  how  that  child  resembles  its  mother," 
thought  Blifkins,  as  he  saw  the  expression  on  the  boy's 
face.  He  learned  from  this  that  in  an  insane  attempt  to 
ride  Sailor  Boy  down  stairs,  he  had  been  thrown,  and  say 
ing  he  was  glad  it  was  no  worse,  proposed  they  should  go 
to  dinner. 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  think  of  dinner  at  such  a 
time ;  but  that  is  just  so  inconsiderate  as  men  are.  Din 
ner,  indeed,  and  that  dear  blessed  boy  escaping  eternity  by 
a  quarter  of  an  inch.  Such  unfeelingness  !  " 

But  an  odor  of  good  things  filled  the  air,  as  if,  while 
denying  him  the  privilege  of  thinking  about  dinner,  her 
thought  had  been  busy  in  that  direction,  and  the  promise 
made  to  the  olfactories  was  not  broken  to  the  taste.  Mrs. 
Blifkins  as  a  cook  is  not  surpassed.  Sailor  Boy  feeling 
some  doubts  as  to  his  status,  from  the  remembrance  of  an 
application  of  Blifkins's  Malacca  cane  in  punishment  for 
his  offence,  prudently  kept  out  of  the  way. 

Mrs.  Blifkins  has  told  us  twenty  times  what  a  wonder 
fully  sagacious  dog  Sailor  Boy  was  ;  and  well  she  might 
admit  it.  Among  the  evidences  of  his  sagacity  was  a 
thorough  understanding  of  her  various  moods.  He 
knew  when  the  domestic  breeze  was  east,  and  no  ba 
rometer  could  more  plainly  demonstrate  the  atmospheric 
changes  of  home  than  his  demeanor.  It  is  true  he  had 
literally  had  this  "  beat  into  him  ;  "  but  it  required  only  a 
few  applications  of  the  foot,  or  of  such  weapon  as  chanced 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPEBS.  89 

to  be  handy,  to  convince  him  of  the  necessity  of  watchful 
ness. 

Having  a  very  social  disposition,  Sailor  Boy  attracted 
quite  a  coterie  of  dogs  to  the  Blifkins  neighborhood;  and, 
being  desirous  of  showing  them  hospitalities,  they  were 
always  welcomed  by  him  in  the  back  yard,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  children,  who  rummaged  all  the  closets  for 
cold  victuals,  and  nearly  ruined  Blifkins  by  their  attacks 
on  his  larder,  rendering  quite  impossible  that  hope  of  an 
economical  household,  a  "  picked-up  dinner."  The  unfor 
tunate  beggar  woman,  who  for  a  long  time  had  come  twice 
a  week  to  get  the  odds  and  ends,  withdrew  her  patronage 
in  disgust  because  of  the  insufficient  supply,  much  to  the 
delight  of  Sailor  Boy  and  his  friends,  who  escorted  her 
to  the  gate  and  barked  their  adieus,  one  of  them  retaining 
a  shred  of  her  ragged  shawl  as  a  memento.  The  coterie 
at  last  was  broken  up  by  the  cook,  who  poured  a  skillet  of 
hot  water  upon  one  of  the  dogs,  who  had  ventured  into 
the  kitchen,  and  was  helping  himself  to  a  veal  cutlet. 
They  found  they  were  getting  into  hot  water,  and  left. 

Professor  Agassiz  couldn't  have  a  better  illustration  of 
reason  in  dogs  than  that  displayed  by  Sailor  Boy.  He 
reasons  from  principles  ;  cause  and  effect  are  duly  consid 
ered  by  him.  This  latter  was  proved  in  the  case  of  his 
treatment  of  Blifkins's  butcher's  boy.  Seeing  the  boy  in 
the  butcher's  shop  was  prima  facie  evidence  to  Sailor  Boy 
that  he  was  good  to  eat ;  therefore,  whenever  he  comes  'to 
the  house,  S.  B.  is  sure  to  have  a  nip  at  him.  The  boy,  by 
a  judicious  application  of  his  brogans,  endeavors  to  dispel 
this  illusion,  but  as  yet  unsuccessfully.  He  is,  besides,  an 
amateur  in  music,  as  is  manifest  whenever  a  hand  organ 
performs  near  the  Blifkins  mansion.  Sailor  Boy,  at  such 
times,  will  sing  so  furious  an  accompaniment  to  the  strain, 
that  the  teeth  of  the  whole  neighborhood  will  be  set  on 
8* 


90  PARTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

edge  thereby  —  superstitious  people,  and  those  with  no  ear 
for  music,  regarding  it  as  howling.  Mrs.  Blifkins  averred 
that  the  harmony  with  the  organ  was  perfect,  and  that  the 
one  who  turned  the  crank  was  so  jealous  of  the  dog  that  he 
swore  a  fearful  oath  at  him  in  Italian,  and  tried  to  kick 
him. 

His  hospitality  was  exemplified  one  day  in  a  remarkable 
manner.  He  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  respectable 
dog  in  the  neighborhood  who  was  accustomed  to  run  in  on 
an  occasional  visit.  One  day  he  came  in  as  Sailor  Boy 
was  discussing  a  savory  bone,  who  with  a  growl  seized  the 
bone  and  ran  with  it  to  the  dog-house  Blifkins  had  built  in 
his  shed.  A  moment  after  he  seemed  to  say  to  himself, 
"Well,  this  is  rather  small  business  for  a  fifteen-dollar 
dog ;  "  and,  coming  out,  he  laid  the  bone  at  the  feet  of  his 
visitor,  wagged  his  tail  as  if  inviting  him  to  fall  to,  which 
he  did,  to  Sailor  Boy's  great  delight.  • 

He  is  a  constant  companion  of  all  the  boys  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  taking  part  in  their  games,  and  is  as  big  a  boy  as 
any  of  them.  Indeed,  all  idea  of  race  seems  to  be  over 
looked  by  all  parties,  and  whether  they  are  all  dogs  or  all 
boys,  when  pursuing  their  play,  it  would  be  hard  for  either 
of  them  to  say.  It  was  a  marvel  to  see  him  one  day 
gravely  sitting  contemplating  a  game  of  marbles,  and  ap 
pearing  very  angry  when  he  saw  one  of  the  boys  trying  to 
cheat. 

"  Well,"  said  Blifkins,  pushing  his  chair  back  from  the 
table,  "  then  Sailor  Boy  must  go  ;  such  a  trick  as  this  to-day 
never  can  be  excused  —  endangering  the  peace  of  my  dear 
wife,  and  the  lives  of  my  precious  children." 

There  was  a  blank  expression  on  the  faces  of  the  chil 
dren  as  he  said  this,  and  Mrs.  Blifkius  looked  troubled. 
At  this  moment  Sailor  Boy  came  into  the  dining-room,  as 


THE  BLIFKIKS   PAPERS.  91 

though  he  had  been  listening  outside.  There  was  a  mel 
ancholy  droop  in  his  tail,  and'  a  general  air  of  penitence  in 
his  whole  demeanor. 

"  Yes,  you  bad  man's  dog,"  continued  Blifkins,  address 
ing  him  ;  "  a  stop  must  be  put  to  this,  sure,  and  to-day  ends 
your  continuance  with  us  as  a  boarder.  My  dear,"  said  he, 
turning  to  Mrs.  B.,  "I  will  send  some  one  up  for  him  this 
afternoon.  Poor  Sailor  Boy  !  " 

"  You  are  in  a  great  hurry  about  it,  I  think,"  said  Mrs. 
Blifkins,  "  but  that  is  as  reasonable  as  you  men  are.  Of 
course  I  didn't  expect  you  to  ask  my  advice  about  it  —  that 
would  be  out  of  the  question." 

"But  my  dear,"  replied  Blifkins,  tossing  Sailor  Boy, 
who  was  having  a  jolly  time  with  Frederick  Augustus, 
whom  he  had  thrown  down  stairs,  a  cube  of  meat,  "  I  cer 
tainly  understood  you  to  express  the  wish  to  be  rid  of  him, 
and  was  willing  to  gratify  you.  He  has  been  a  cause  of 
trouble"  —  rubbing  his  roguish  eye  —  "and  perhaps  it 
would  be  as  well  to  get  rid  of  him.  I  can  give  him 
away." 

"  Give  him  away  !  Yes,  you  can  give  him  away,  I  dare 
say.  But  what  will  the  children  do  when  they  go  in  swim 
ming  next  summer,  and  get  into  deep  water,  if  the  dog  isn't 
there  to  pull  ?em  out  ?  They'll  certainly  drown  ;  and  then 
who  will  answer  for  it  ?  Not  I,  to  be  sure." 

"  Well,  I  won't  give  him  away,  then,"  said  Blifkins, 
"  though  I  know  somebody  that  will  be  very  glad  to  have 
him." 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Blifkins,  with  some  animation. 

"  Mrs.  Simkins,"  replied  he,  carelessly. 

"  Then  she  shall  not  have  him,"  said  she  with  warmth  ; 
"  and  you  should  be  ashamed  of  yourself  for  naming  her  to 
me.  But  I  have  done  expecting  any  thing  else  but  ill- 
treatment  and  insult. 


92  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

Blifkins  put  on  his  hat  and  went  out,  satisfied  that  he 
had  secured  a  permanent  home  for  Sailor  Boy  as  long  as 
he  chose  to  live.  He  felt,  as  he  went  down  town,  that  his 
forte  did  not  lie  in  merchandise,  but  that  Nature  had  devel 
oped  him  largely  for  a  diplomat. 


XVI. 
BLIFKINS  TAKES  A  STAND. 

"  How  far  does  woman's  sphere  extend  ?  "  said  Blifkins, 
as  he  paid  us  his  customary  Monday  morning  visit.  We 
informed  him  that,  though  it  was  not  very  definitely 
assigned,  it  was  generally  understood  to  be  all  round.  "  I 
should  think  so,"  said  he,  reaching  over  and  taking  a 
match,  with  which  he  proceeded  to  light  a  cigar,  and 
puffed  some  time  in  silence,  gazing  upon  the  serene  and 
pleasant  countenance  of  Horace  Greeley  that  hangs  upon 
our  wall. 

"  I  can't  smoke  at  home,"  he  said,  after  a  while,  gently 
knocking  off  the  ashes. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  we  asked,  half  diverted  from  an  amusing 
paragraph  in  the  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  Mrs.  Blifkins  doesn't  smoke  herself,  and  rather  insists 
upon  it  that  I  shall  not,"  was  the  reply. 

There  was  a  tenderness  in  his  tone  that  betokened  an 
aggrieved  spirit. 

"  Won't  she  let  you  smoke  ?  "  we  asked. 

"  Why,  '  icon't '  isn't  exactly  the  word,"  he  replied ; 
"  there  is  a  qualification  put  in  that  redeems  it  from  positive 
prohibition ;  but,  after  all,  it  amounts  to  the  same  thing. 
The  smoke,  she  says  injures  the  curtains,  discolors  the  ceil 
ing,  impregnates  the  clothing ;  she  wonders  how  I  can 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPEES.  93 

smoke,  and  when  I  would  show  her,  she  runs  away,  declar 
ing  I  want  to  choke  her." 

We  saw  there  was  something  more  on  the  poor  fellow's 
mind,  and  so  let  it  go  off  with  the  smoke  without  saying  a 
word  to  him. 

"  It  is  pretty  much  the  same  with  every  thing  else,"  he 
broke  out  at  last.  "I  can't  do  right.  My  wife  will  be* 
boss  over  every  thing.  I  was  fixing  the  coal-pen  a  day  or 
two  ago,  and  had  done,  as  I  supposed,  wonders  in  a  me 
chanical  way,  when  my  wife  said,  — 

" '  Mr.  Blif  kins,  you  should  have  put  the  boards  on  the 
other  way/ 

"I  raised  my  foot  to  kick — don't  start  —  to  kick  the 
pen  to  pieces  again,  but  my  guardian  angel  whispered  a 
suggestion  of  the  folly  and  expense  of  the  thing,  and  I  re 
frained.  Why,  I  can't  have  a  pair  of  pants  or  a  vest  made 
without  her  interfering.  She  presumes  to  answer  for  my 
religious  faith,  my  social  relations,  and  my  political  creed 
—  to  do  every  thing  but  pay  my  bills.  Worse  than  all  this, 
I  was  shaving  this  morning,  in  a  state  of  mind  as  tranquil 
as  a  man  can  be  under  the  sorrow  of  a  dull  razor,  when  my 
wife  came  in. 

" '  Mr.  Blifkins,'  said  she,  '  your  lather  isn't  good.7 

"I  scraped  away  without  speaking,  though  I  felt  the 
irritation  crawling  through  my  veins  to  my  very  finger 
tips. 

" '  Mr.  Blifkins,'  said  she,  '  you  don't  hold  your  razor 
right.  You'll  cut  off  your  nose  some  time  by  your  care 
lessness.' 

"  I  could  contain  myself  no  longer. 

"  '  Mrs.  Blifkins/  I  cried,  with  some  heat,  as  the  razor 
scored  a  half-inch  incision  into  my  cuticle,  l  any  thing  but 
this.  You  may  be  boss  in  every  department  of  the  house 
hold,  from  the  mending  of  coal-pens  and  sawing  of  wood  to 


94  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

the  blacking  of  boots  and  the  hanging  of  clothes-lines  ;  but 
here  is  a  job  that  I  choose  to  boss  myself.  I  feel  positive 
that  it  is  an  operation  quite  outside  of  your  sphere.  Na 
ture,  Mrs.  Blifkins,  has  fixed  bounds  here  —  settled  them 
to  a  hair  —  by  depriving  you  of  the  beard  that  is  such  a 
delightful  ornament  to  the  masculine  sex ;  and  it  is  full 
bad  enough  to  have  to  take  care  of  it  without  female  in 
terference.' 

"  I  was  clear,  decisive,  firm.  There  was  a  shower  of  tears, 
a  volcano  of  reproaches,  a  vocabulary  of  expletives,  of  which 
'  brute,'  often  repeated,  was  the  principal,  and  the  scene 
closed  with  —  Exit  Blifkins." 

We  soothed  the  poor  fellow  by  telling  him  that  there  must 
be  some  drawback  to  felicity;  that  all  mundane  bliss  had 
its  temporary  offset ;  and  that  he  really  was  the  happiest 
fellow  in  existence ;  for  what  could  he  do  if  the  interest 
thus  expended  on  his  behalf  were  withdrawn,  and  indif 
ference  substituted  ?  He  thought  of  this  a  moment,  said 
he  supposed  it  was  all  right,  and,  as  his  cigar  was 'out,  he 
went  out  also. 

Excellent  Blifkins ! 


XVII. 
BLIFKINS  THE  PATRIOT. 

"  WE  must  show  our  colors,"  said  Mrs.  Blifkins,  one 
morning  at  breakfast.  "  We  are  surrounded  by  'copper 
heads/  and  shall  not  be  distinguished  from  them  if  we  do 
not  hang  out  our  banner."  She  was  fiercely  loyal. 

Blifkins  was  as  delighted  with  the  prudence  of  Mrs.  B. 
as  was  Cowper's  John  Gilpin  at  the  wholesome  sugges 
tions  of  his  wife  on  their  wedding  day ;  and  with  a  prom 
ise,  on  leaving,  that  a  flag  should  be  hoisted,  and  that  right 


THE  BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  Ui> 

speedily,  lie  went  out  to  secure  the  services  of  Mr.  Plane, 
the  joiner,  in  putting  up  a  sufficient  pole  for  the  desired 
bunting.  Mr.  Blifkins  thought  it  would  not  be  necessary 
to  put  up  a  pole  as  tall  as  some,  though  his  patriotism 
stood  at  the  loftiest  altitude  ;  and  telling  Plane  to  procure 
him  one  of  twenty-five  feet,  he  went  down  town  to  buy  a 
flag.  This  was  procured,  —  a  beauty,  blazing  with  the 
glory  of  thirty-six  stars,  —  and  forwarded  to  Blifkiris's 
residence,  to  await  the  elevation  of  the  flag-staff,  soon  ex 
pected. 

Day  by  day  passed,  and  Plane  did  not  make  his  appear 
ance  with  the  desired  staff;  day  by  day  did  Mrs.  Blifkins 
urge  upon  her  husband  the  necessity  for  his  "  seeing  about 
it ; "  for  she  had  mentioned  their  intention  to  neighbors, 
who  were  expecting  it,  and  she  had  overheard  some  boys 
looking  over  their  gate,  speculating  as  to  where  it  was  to 
be  put,  one  mischievous  little  wretch  saying  to  another, 
"  Don't  you  wish  you  may  see  it ! " 

Upon  several  consultations  with  Plane,  Blifkins  was 
told  that  it  was  "got,"  " finished,"  "gone  to  be  painted,'7 
"  at  the  blacksmith's ;  "  and  in  the  mean  time  Mrs.  Blif 
kins,  with  patriotic  ingenuity,  hung  the  banner  in  her  win 
dow,  glorifying  the  end  of  the  domicile  that  looked  to 
wards  the  street,  leaving  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of  passers- 
by  that  all  was  right  in  that  house. 

"  The  flag-staff  is  up,"  said  Mrs.  Blifkins,  with  a  voice 
of  triumph,  as  Blifkins  came  home  one  evening,  {l  and  you 
must  get  up  early  in  the  morning  to  see  about  putting  out 
the  flag." 

It  was  too  dark  for  Blifkins  to  observe  how  the  work 
was  done,  but  he  could  see  the  slender  pole  traced  against 
the  sky,  that  seemed  pointing  among  the  galaxies  which 
his  own  bright  banner  was  to  symbolize.  He  hummed  to 
himself  a  line  or  two  of  Drake's  ode,  — 

"  When  Freedom  ^rom  her  mountain  height,"  — 


96  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

and  then  went  in  to  make  preparations  for  a  good  time  at 
the  consecration  of  the  flag.  He  would  Jiave  a  band  of 
music,  a  free  lunch,  and  fireworks  in  the  evening.  Proba 
bly  it  would  get  into  the  papers,  and  he  would  be  famous. 
Blifkins  went  to  bed  to  dream  of  skies  of  red,  white,  and 
blue,  and  Goddesses  of  Liberty  in  short  skirts  dancing  all 
around  him,  to  the  air  of  the  Star-spangled  Banner,  played 
by  invisible  bands. 

Just  as  Blifkins  fancied  he  had  got  soundly  to  sleep,  he 
awoke,  and  found  it  was  morning.  He  arose,  and  his  first 
thought  was  to  look  out  of  the  window  at  the  pole  which 
proudly  occupied  the  position  in  his  premises,  the  flag  on 
which  was  to  delight  the  residents  of  three  streets.  He 
sent  down  to  Crotchet  for  a  dozen  pieces  of  music,  got  his 
sandwiches  all  ready,  and  at  the  time  appointed  quite  a 
crowd  was  present.  Mrs.  Blifkins,  who  had  told  her  fe 
male  friends  that  it  was  the  proudest  day  of  her  life,  sat 
in  full  view  of  the  scene,  with  a  coterie  of  admiring  and 
envious  neighbors  around  her,  as  Blifkins  came  out  bear 
ing  the  bunting,  which  he  was  prepared  to  hoist  with  his 
own  hands. 

Blifkins  looked  at  the  pole,  looked  at  the  flag,  looked  at 
the  people.  He  was  reduced  to  a  dilemma.  He  was  no 
philosopher,  and  he  was  perplexed  to  know  how  he  wag  to 
get  the  flag  up  to  its  position.  He  had  seen  flags  floating 
from  mast-heads  and  flag-staffs,  and  wondered  if  they  were 
nailed  there. 

"  You  must  hoist  it !  "  screamed  Mrs.  Blifkins  from  the 
window. 

"  Run  it  up,  Blif !  "  shouted  a  friendly  voice  from  below. 

"  Up  with  it !  "  yelled  a  fiendish  boy  on  top  of  the  wood 
shed. 

The  musicians  were  all  already  with  the  Star-span gled 
Banner,  and  the  people  all  ready  to  cheer  j  but  Blifkins 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  97 

looked  very  red,  and  beckoned  to  a  friend  among  the 
crowd  to  come  up  and  help  him.  They  were  seen  to 
confer  a  minute,  then  the  friend  burst  out  into  a  roar  of 
laughter,  and  Blifkins  looked  the  picture  of  disappoint 
ment.  They  had  discovered,  what  nobody  had  observed 
before,  that  Plane  had  neglected  to  reeve  any  halliards. 
There  was  no  remedy  but  patience,  and  Blifkins  had  had 
his  tried  too  severely  in  a  twenty  years'  married  life  to  al 
low  it  to  be  overcome  now.  His  was  a  temper  to  lift  man 
over  his  accidents;  and  dismissing  the  band,  much  to  the 
disgust  of  the  boys,  he  invited  in  his  friends,  and,  with 
the  flag  hung  upon  the  gas  chandelier  over  the  table, 
as  good  a  time  was  enjoyed  as  though  the  thing  had 
"  come  off." 

Plane  was  summoned,  who  received  a  lesson  from  Mrs. 
Blifkins  that  made  him  see  more  stars  than  there  are  in 
thev American  constellation,  and  "  sent  down  "  the  pole  to 
receive  the  proper  halliards.  This  being  done,  Blifkins 
was  instructed  how  to  hoist  the  nag ;  and  soon  the  proud 
banner  was  seen  moving  heavenward  with  ostentatious 
show.  Nobody  but  a  small  boy  was  near,  who  shouted, 
"  Hi,  hi !  "  as  it  ran  up.  There  was  now  another  dilemma. 
Plane  had  made  the  staff  shorter  by  some  five,  feet  than 
that  agreed  upon ;  and  there  were  eddies  of  air  playing 
about  between  the  buildings,  antagonistic  to  patriotic  dem 
onstrations  not  more  than  twenty  feet  high.  They  were 
true  national  airs,  and  flouted  all  trivial  demonstrations. 
The  flag  had  a  prevailing  tendency  to  wind  itself  around 
the  top  of  the  staff,  like  a  night-cap ;  and  at  last  Blifkins, 
finding  it  impracticable,  went  down  to  Plane  again,  with 
an  order  to  add  twenty  feet  more  to  the  pole  at  once. 

The  neighbors,  with  that  kind  sympathy  which  commis 
erates  failure  and  misfortune  by  laughing  at  it,  shouted  to 
Blifkins,  as  they  went  by,  "  When  are  .you  going  to  hoist 
9 


98  PAKTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

your  flag  ? "  which  he  answered  mildly,  and  was  content 
to  wait  until,  with  twenty  feet  added  to  his  flag-staff,  he 
could  confound  them,  especially  his  "  copperhead  "  neighbors, 
who  had  been  outrageous  in  their  abuse  of  him.  He  longed 
for  his  hour  of  triumph,  which  he  was  sure  would  soon 
come,  as  Plane  had  promised  to  have  it  done  in  a  fort 
night.  The  fortnight,  however,  passed,  and  the  staff  was 
not  done;  another  fortnight  was  consumed. in  lying  and 
promises,  and  it  did  not  come ;  but  one  day,  as  he  came 
home,  resolved  that  he  would  next  day  seek  some  other 
carpenter,  Mrs.  Blifkins  met  him  at  the  door,  her  face  radi 
ant  with  smiles. 

"  Did  you  see  any  thing  as  you  came  in  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,"  replied  he  ;  "  I  saw  your  own  bright  face,  which 
is  always  my  delight." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  said  she  ;  "  you  are  so  provoking !  Didn't 
you  see  our  flag  ?  " 

"No,"  he  replied. 

"  Well,  it  is  up',"  said  she;  "  I  put  it  up  myself,  and  it  has 
attracted  lots  of  attention.  More  than  twenty  people  have 
stopped  to  look  at  it.  It  blows  out  splendidly  !  " 

He  stepped  to  the  window,  and  looked  out.  There, 
sure  enough,  hung  the  flag,  blowing  out,  as  she  had  said, 
with  great  freedom  ;  but,  alas  for  his  peace  and  her  taste, 
it. was  Union  down,  and  at  half  staff!  There  were  six 
people  watching  it  from  the  street— 'all  " copperheads." 
With  almost  a  howl,  Blifkins  rushed  out,  and  in  less 
than  one  minute  the  flag  was  in  his  hands  ;  in  a  moment 
more  it  was  reversed,  and  floating  from  the  top  of  the 
staff. 

It  is  with  malicious  satisfaction  that  Blifkins,  on  any  oc 
casion  where  Mrs.  Blifkins  asserts  her  superiority,  asks  her 
which  way  she  will  have  the  Union  hoisted ;  but,  though 
she  is  subdued,  she  is  not  conquered. 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  99 

XVIII. 
BLIFKINS  THE  CONSUMER. 

"  G-KOCERS  are  terrible  fellows,"  said  Blifkins  to  us  one 
morning,  as  he  took  us  by  the  arm.  We  had  just  got  past 
the  store  of  Firkin  &  Tubb,  and  observed  that  he  looked 
in  there  very  timidly  as  we  went  by. 

We  asked  him  what  he  meant  by  the  remark  he  had 
just  made.  He  hesitated  ajittle,  and  then  proceeded  to 
confess  that  he  was  a  victim  to  fear  of  grocers  and  provis 
ion  dealers. 

"When  I  first  began  housekeeping,"  said  he,  "I  got 
along  very  well.  I  could  go  into  the  grocer's,  and  order 
an  article  with  considerable  confidence,  and  with  a  half- 
belief  that  I  was  conferring  a  favor  in  buying  of  him.  But 
I  soon  found  my  mistake.  That  was  a  mere  delusion.  I 
found  that  I  was  the  obliged  party,  and  that  the  sale  of 
goods  to  me  was  a  matter  of  condescension.  That  grocer 
was  a  terrible  man.  He  sold  me  bad  butter,  bad  sugar, 
bad  molasses,  bad  every  thing;  but  there  was  such  a  stern 
ness  about  him  that  I  didn't  dare  to  say  a  word. 

"  'Mr.  Blifkins/  says  my  wife,  'this  tea  is  wretched.7 

" l  So  it  is,  my  love/  I  would  reply ;  '  but  what  can 
we  do  ? > 

'"  This  was  a  settler  of  a  question,  and,  like  a  sensible 
woman,  she  held  her  tongue. 

" '  Mr.  Blifkins/  says  my  wife,  '  the  last  barrel  of  flour 
didn't  hold  out  very  well;  it  was  not  full  when  it  was 
bought.' 

" (  My  dear,'  said  I,  e  we  will  have  another  barrel/ 

"'Mr.  Blifkins/  says  my  wife,  'that  butter  you  sent 


100  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

home  is  awfully  rancorous ;  we  never  shall  eat  it ;  hadn't 
you  better  speak  to  Mr.  Firkin  about  it?7 

"  I  did  so,  and  the  shock  I  received  settled  me. 

"  *  Do  you  pretend  to  say/  said  he,  looking  into  my  eye, 
<  that  the  butter  was  bad  ? ' 

" i  Really,  Mr.  Firkin/  said  I,  mustering  courage,  '  I  have 
seen  better.' 

"  '  Better,  sir ! '  said  he,  in  a  voice  of  thunder  and  light 
ning,  '  I  never  had  better  butter  in  my  store  in  my  life ; 
and  if  you  don't  like  it,  I  won't  sell  you  any  more.' 

"  I  apologized,  and  we  went  on  again. 

"  '  Mr.  Blif kins/  says  my  wife,  '  this  is  wretched  oil.' 

"  '  Well,  my  dear/  said  I,  '  what  can  we  do  ? ' 

" '  Buy  somewhere  else/  says  she,  promptly  as  the  catch 
of  a  steel  trap. 

"  I  looked  at  her  to  see  if  she  wasn't  a  little  out ;  but 
her  cerulean  eye  never  wore  a  clearer  expression. 

"  *  My  dear/  said  I,  '  sha'n't  we  give  offence  by  doing  so  ? ' 

"  l  That  for  the  offence ! '  said  my  wife,  snapping  her 
fingers  contemptuously. 

"  Down  town,  a  few  days  afterwards,  I  went  into  a  gro 
cery,  and  sent  home  groceries  enough  to  last  fora  month. 
I  met  Tubb  in  the  street  soon  after,  and  says  he,  — 

"  ( Blif  kins,  I  half  suspect  you  are  buying  goods  some 
where  else.  Now,  I'll  give  you  fair  warning :  if  you  do, 
I'll  sue  you  for  defamation  of  character,  implied  by  your 
leaving  us,  and  for  damages  in  the  profits  we  shall  lose.' 

"  I  went  down  and  saw  a  lawyer,  and  he  told  me,  for  ten 
dollars,  that  they  couldn't  do  any  such  thing.  I  buy  where 
I  please  now ;  but  I  haven't  got  so  that  I  can  look  him  in 
the  face  yet,  and  go  round  the  other  street  to  get  to  my 
house,  because  I  dare  not  meet  him. 

"  The  provision  dealers  are  just  as  bad,"  continued  he; 
t(  for  when  I  bought  a  quarter  of  lamb,  the  other  day,  down 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAEtfS.'  *J  I'Ol 


town,  my  provision  dealer  found  it  o'u£,  arid '  raised'  a  par 
ticular  storm  about  it;  and  as  for  buying  vegetables  out 
of  a  cart,  though  I  can  get  them  a  good  deal  cheaper,  that 
is  out  of  the  question." 

We  felt  for  Blifkins,  and  believe  he  is  one  of  a  great 
many  who  are  victims  to  grocers  and  provision  dealers  in 
one  way  or  another. 


XIX. 

BLIFKINS  THE  RURALIST. 

BLIFKINS  had  leased  a  house  at  a  convenient  distance 
from  Boston,  and  every  morning  he  might  have  been  seen 
with  the  "  innumerable  caravan  "  that  streamed  down  town 
from  one  of  our  railroads,  and,  as  the  evening  shades  pre 
vailed,  with  his  basket  of  purchases,  entering  the  railroad 
depot  as  regular  as  a  cow  accustomed  to  come  into  a  byre^ 
for  milking. 

When  he  first  moved  to  his  country  residence,  Mrs.  Blif 
kins  and  her  mother  —  Blifkins  was  blessed  in  his  mother- 
in-law,  she  was  so  good  to  advise  —  thought  the  place  was 
charming.  It  was  delightfully  situated  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  village,  with  a  hill  rising  from  the  back  door  to  a  re 
spectable  altitude,  and  a  brook  but  a  short  distance  from 
the  house,  in  which  the  children  and  the  ducks  could  pad 
dle  with  perfect  freedom,  and  where  the  frogs  came  at 
night  to  serenade  the  neighborhood,  and  soothe  it  into 
peaceful  rest  by  their  dulcet  notes. 

His  nearest  neighbor,  Mr.  Sparin,  dwelt  in  the  house 
opposite,  who,  as  Blifkins  found  a  short  time  after  he  had 
located,  was  in  the  habit  of  indulging  in  occasional  "times," 
—  "benders"  the  initiated  call  them,  — when  he  would  be 


'102  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

away  for  several  days  in  the  enjo3Tmen"t  of  sublime  indiffer 
ence  to  home  and  every  thing  else ;  but  he  was  harmless  to 
everybody  except  himself;  and,  after  the  fit  was  over,  he 
would  re  turn/ and  settle  down  to  work  again  as  quietly  as 
though  nothing  had  happened,  looking  his  neighbors  in  the 
face  as  composedly  as  though  he  had  returned  from  a  po 
litical  convention,  or  a  missionary  meeting  in  some  other 
place.  If  any  one  inquired  as  to  where  he  had  gone,  he 
had  an  answer  always  ready,  that,  to  those  unfamiliar  with 
his  habits,  was  of  the  most  satisfactory  character.  He  in 
formed  Blifkins,  wfto  was  at  first  curious  regarding  his 
disappearance,  that  he  had  been  up  in  the  country  to  see 
about  some  property  that  had  been  left  to  his  wife ;  and 
Blifkins  had  nothing  more  to  say. 

Sparin  had  been  away  three  days  at  the  time  the  grand 
incident  of  this  veracious  story  transpired;  and,  as  Blif 
kins  alighted  from  the  cars  on  his  return  from  the  city  on 
that  day,  he  was  informed  that  Sparin  had  been  seen  by 
.one  of  the  neighbors  going  towards  home  across  the  pas 
ture.  On  arriving  home,  he  was  surprised  to  find  his  wife, 
and  his  mother-in-law,  and  all  the  children  arranged  along 
the  front  of  the  house  in  a  sort  of  evening  dress-parade,  gaz 
ing  intently  up  towards  Sparin's  house.  The  night  was 
calm  and  pleasant,  and  he  thought  at  first,  before  he  joined 
them,  that  they  were  enjoying  the  beauties  of  the  evening. 
He  was  past  the  dressing-gown  and  slippers  period,  and 
therefore  knew  the  parade  was  not  complimentary  to  him 
self ;  but  he  said,  by  way  of  a  joke,  — 

"  This,  now,  is  really  kind  of  you.  There  is  nothing  that 
cheers  a  man  up  so,  on  returning  fatigued  from  business, 
like  a  kind  reception  from  '  wife  and  weans.'  This  is  really 
pleasant." 

"  Blifkins,  don't  be  a  fool/'  said  his  wife  j  "  but  look  up 
there." 


THE  BLIFKIKS  PAPEKS.  103 

She  pointed  to  a  front  upper  window  in  Sparin's  house, 
and  a  queer  sight  met  his  startled  gaze.  A  bright  light 
that  sat  on  a  table  near  the  window  shone  full  upon  a  hu 
man  face,  that  with  staring  eyes  seemed  to  glare  wildly 
upon  vacancy,  with  a  meaningless  expression,  motionless, 
while,  at  intervals  of  a  few  moments,  alternate  hands  stole 
up  to  the  top  of  the  head,  and  then,  with  a  seeming  effort 
to  grasp  something,  dropped  again  from  sight. 

"  A  pretty  place  you've  brought  us  to !  "  said  Mrs.  Blif- 
kins,  with  the  acid  slightly  preponderating  over  the  sweet. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  my  dear,"  said  he ;  "I 
knew  you  would  like  it.  The  quiet  of  the  place  and  the 
convenience  of  access  —  '  five  minutes '  walk  from  the 
d.cpot,'  as  the  advertisement  said,  though  I  must  confess 
that  the  five  minutes  seem  rather  long  between  the  rail 
road  and  my  treasures.'7 

Gallant  Blifkins ! 

"  Don't  be  a  fool  always,"  said'Mrs.  Blifkins ;  "  what  is 
that  ?  " 

She  pointed  up  at  the  window  opposite,  where  the  face 
yet  remained  —  the  eyes  staring  out  into  vacancy,  and 
the  hands  alternately  clutching  the  air,  as  it  appeared. 
Poor  Blifkins  was  as  puzzled  at  the  sight  as  was  Belshaz- 
zar,  when  he  saw  the  writing  on  the  wall.  He  scarcely 
dared  to  breathe  his  suspicions  to  himself;  but  it  at  once 
ran  through  his  mind  that  the  face  opposite  belonged  to 
Sparin,  who  he  deemed  had  come  home,  and  was  then  in 
a  fit  of  delirium  tremens,  fancying  the  air  full  of  snakes 
and  other  venomous  reptiles,  and  he  was  engaged  in  the 
interesting  game  of  catching  them.  The  idea  was  a  hor 
rid  one,  and  he  imparted  his  suspicions  to  Mrs.  Blifkins 
with  some  timidity.  Her  mind  immediately  took  alarm. 

"  What  if  he  should  kill  his  family,"  said  she,  "  with  a 
carving-knife,  and  then  go  round  murdering  his  neighbors, 


104  PABTINGTOXIAN  PATCHWORK. 

and  setting  fire  to  their  houses,  and  then  finish  with  him 
self  !  Gracious  goodness,  it  makes  my  blood  run  cold." 

"I  guess  he  won't  do  any  hurt,"  said  Blifkins,  with  af 
fected  cheerfulness.  At  that  moment  the  figure  gave 
what  seemed  a  desperate  grah,  as  though  a  particularly 
big  snake  were  aimed  at,  and  Mrs.  Blifkins,  in  a  tone  of 
great  earnestness,  said,  — 

"  Why  don't  you  do  something,  stupid  ?  " 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  "  responded  the  unfortunate  Blifkins. 

"  Why,  go  over  and  tie  him,"  said  the  excellent  woman, 
with  a  quick  mind  that  never  lacked  for  expedients.  Blif 
kins,  however,  looked  timidly  at  the  stony  face  and  the 
staring  eyes  and  the  hands  grasping  at  the  snakes,  and  did 
not  jump  at  her  proposition  with  the  alacrity  that  a  tender 
husband  ought  to  have  done,  she  thought. 

He  had  a  half-formed  plan  of  raising  an  alarm  of  fire, 
and  bringing  out  the  engine  company,  but  was  stayed  by 
the  imperative  question  from  his  wife,  — 

"  Why  don't  you  go  ?  " 

Mustering  courage,  he  ran  across  the  street,  when  it  oc 
curred  to  him  that  Uncle  Bean,  as  he  was  called,  a  soldier 
of  the  "  last  war,"  lived  in  the  house  with  Sparin,  and 
would  undoubtedly  go  in  and  see  how  it  was  with  his  un 
fortunate  neighbor.  Uncle  Bean,  however,  was  in  bed, 
and  in  response  to  Blifkins's  knocks  a  window  opened  over 
the  door,  and  a  voice  harshly  demanded,  what  the  dense 
was  the  row.  Blifkins  explaind  the  matter  as  well  as  he 
could,  which  was  poorly  enough,  as  the  veteran  was  a  little 
hard  of  hearing.  As  soon  as  he  could  make  the  story  out, 
he  told  Blifkins  that  he  must  be  excused  from  doing  any 
thing,  as  he  had  just  retired  on  four  fingers  of  whiskey  and 
a  bad  cold,  and  didn't  want  to  be  disturbed.  He  advised 
Blifkins  to  go  down  the  street  to  Constable  Grabem's,  and 
get  him  to  come  up  and  attend  to  the  affair,  as  it  was  his 
especial  business. 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  105 

The  office  of  constable  had  been  filled,  from  time  imme 
morial,  by  some  unfortunate  who  was  unable,  from  bodily 
infirmity  or  otherwise,  to  get  a  living,  but  who  was  deemed 
sufficient  to  preserve  the  peace  and  dignity  of  the  town, 
though  a  home  guard  of  seventy  men  are  now  enrolled  for 
that  purpose. 

Blifkins  assured  himself,  as  he  came  out  again  into  the 
street,  that  the  unfortunate  was  still  there,  though  Mrs. 
Blifkins  and  the  domestic  forces  had  retreated  to  the 
citadel. 

"  Mr.  Blifkins  ! "  said  his  wife  from  an  upper  story  win 
dow,  "  have  you  tied  him  ?  " 

Without  deigning  a  reply,  because  it  might  involve  too 
long  an  explanation,  and  provoke  unpleasant  remark,  Blif 
kins  started  at  double  quick  for  Grabem's,  who  lived  some 
twenty  rods  down  the  street.  The  old  fellow  was  cooling 
off  in  the  porch  of  his  house,  tilted  back  in  a  chair  made 
of  a  flour  barrel,  which  just  admitted  his  spacious  person, 
and  smoking  a  clay  pipe.  He  heard  the  story  patiently, 
but  vouchsafed  no  reply  to  Blifkins's  prognostications  re 
garding  the  inebriate's  performance  of  mischief,  except 
"Let  him.'7 

"  He'll  cut  his  own  throat,  and  then  murder  his  family," 
said  Blifkins. 

i(  Let  him,"  replied  Grabem,  puffing  away. 

"  He'll  set  fire  to  the  house,  and  burn  the  neighbor- 
•hood  ! "  screamed  Blifkins. 

"  Let  him  !  "  shouted  the  constable. 

"  He'll  kill  everybody,  and  play  the  deuse  generally  !  " 
yelled  Blifkins: 

"  Let  him ! "  roared  the  official,  breaking  the  clay  pipe  as 
he  tipped  energetically  forward. 

Blifkins  went  back,  and  bethought  himself  that  Sparin 
had  a  sou,  —  a  sort  of  second  edition  of  hin^self,  «*-  who 


106  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

was  disposed  of  an  evening  to  make  merry,  with  boys  of 
his  age,  by  the  grocery  at  the  other  side  of  his  residence, 
about  as  far  as  he  had  come  to  find  the  constable.  He 
would  go  and  see  him,  and  have>hiin  go  home  and  look 
after  his  eccentric  paternal.  He  accordingly  rushed,  as 
fast  as  his  weary  limbs  would  carry  him,  to  where  he  ex 
pected  to  find  the  lad.  He  looked  up  at  the  house  as  lie 
passed  by,  and  there  was  the  face  still  there,  with  the  set 
eyes  and  the  busy  hands. 

Fortunately  for  Blifkins,  the  boy  was  found  ;  and  on  be 
ing  informed  of  the  suspicions  concerning  his  parent,  and 
expressing  his  own  convictions  thereon  in  a  very  preco 
cious  manner,  involving  sundry  unfilial  remarks,  implying 
a  wish  that  he  might  be  permitted  to  punch  his  head,  they 
started  down  the  street  together.  The  outposts  of  the 
Blifkins  stockade  saw  them  coining  down  the  street  by  the 
uncertain  light  of  the  stars,  and  the  whole  garrison  turned 
out  to  meet  them,  with  the  remark  of  Mrs.  Blifkins,  that 
he  had  been  gone  two  hours,  and  that  all  of  them  might 
be  killed  and  scalped  if  they  depended  upon  such  as  he  for 
protection.  It  was  an  exaggeration  with  regard  to  the 
time,  because  not  more  than  half  an  hour  had  elapsed  since 
he  had  arrived  from  the  city ;  but  something  must  be  al 
lowed  for  excitement,  when  a  maniac,  threatening  violence, 
and  perhaps  death,  was  in  she  case. 

Blifkins  thought  it  would  be  best  for  the,  boy  to  go  in, 
while  he  would  wait  outside  of  the  door,  armed  with  a 
bludgeon,  to  rush  in  at  the  first  alarm.  He  accordingly 
provided  himself  with  a  cat-stick,  and  stood  with  a  beat 
ing  heart  to  await  the  result.  He  heard  no  sound  from 
within.  The  stillness  of  death  prevailed.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  the  maniac  had  rushed  upon  the  lad  suddenly 
and  strangled  him  !  He  glanced  up  at  the  window,  and 
saw  that  the  stony  face  had  disappeared.  IJe  couldn't 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  107 

leave  his  youthful  ally  to  perish.  The  respect  of  the  neigh 
borhood,  his  self-respect,  and,  more  than  all,  the  respect  of 
Mrs.  Blifkins,  whom  he  still  saw  watching  him  from  the 
opposite  side  of  the  way,  forbade  so  cowardly  a  thing. 
He  seized  his  cudgel  with  a  firmer  grasp,  and  was  lifting 
his  foot  to  take  a  step  nearer  the  door,  when  he  heard  a 
step  upon  the  stairs  inside,  and  the  door  opened.  He  was 
relieved  by  seeing  that  it  was  the  boy,  who  said,  — 

"  It's  all  right.'7 

"  What's  all  right  ?  "  cried  Blifkins,  taking  him  by  the 
collar,  and  dragging  him  across  the  street  to  where  the  im 
patient  group  were  awaiting  the  denouement  of  the  scene. 

"  It's  only  mother,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak ; 
"  you  see  she  wears  a  wig,  and  was  sitting  there  where  you 
saw  her,  pulling  out  the  short  hairs  that  were  growing  on 
her  head  —  she's  as  bald  as  a  plate." 

"Just  as  I  thought,"  said  Mrs.  Blifkins,  "and  anybody 
but  a  fool  would  have  seen  it  at  once.  I  declare  I  believe 
Blifkins  is  growing  stupider  and  stupider  every  day.  I'm 
thankful  none  of  the  children  take  after  him." 

"  True,  dear,"  chimed  in  his  mother-in-law ;  "  but  it 
couldn't  be  expected  any  different,  because  men  are  never 
so  considerable  as  women.  Though  he  hadn't  ought  to  try 
your  feelings  so  at  such  a  time." 

"  Oh  !  my  feelings  are  not  of  any  consequence,"  said  Mrs. 
Blifkins ;  "  I  never  expect  any  consideration  for  them." 

Blifkins  with  a  tried  spirit  went  into  the  house,  the  light 
had  disappeared  from  the  pane  opposite,  he  heard  his  chil 
dren  say  their  prayers  as  he  put  them  to  bed,  and  sat 
down  in  velvet  slippers  and  tranquil  meditation,  thanking 
his  lucky  stars  that  he  had  been  saved  from  participating 
in  what  might  have  been  a  tragedy,  had  the  fates  so 
willed  it. 


108  PAKTENGTONIAN  PATCHWOBK. 


XX. 

BLIFKINS'S  MIDNIGHT   CALL. 

MR.  BLIFKINS  in  his  domestic  economy  for  many  years 
has  retained  the  allopathic  system  of  medicine,  and,  hy  his 
liberal  encouragement  of  apothecaries,  has  established  quite 
a  reputation  withHhat  class.  As,  in  the  event  of  sickness, 
each  application  required  new  bottles  and  new  pill-boxes,  it 
may  be  supposed  that  during  the  twenty  years  of  his  ex 
perience,  there  was  about  his  house  a  formidable  aggregate 
of  half-used  prescriptions,  reminders  of  several  moderate 
fortunes  that  had  been  thrown  to  the  dogs  in  the  form  of 
physic,  about  the  use  and  effect  of  which  the  memory  of 
Blifkins  ceased  to  be  cognizant.  Mrs.  Blifkins,  however, 
insisted  upon  keeping  them,  from  an  economical  desire  that 
nothing  should  be  wasted;  for  she  is  a  great  economist, 
and  there  is  not  one  in  the  neighborhood  that  excels  her. 
Her  house  is  a  curiosity  shop  of  relics  of  past  economies, 
that  have  survived  all  earthly  uses,  and  lie  mouldering  in 
a  hundred  nooks  around  the  house,  and  bottles  and  boxes 
in  a  closet  handy  are  numerous  enough  to  set  up  a  drug 
gist  of  not  inordinate  desires.  She  pretended,  and  actual 
ly  thought,  probably,  that  she  knew  the  difference  between 
a  cough  mixture  and  a  wash  for  weak  eyes,  could  discrimi 
nate  betwixt  rheumatic  and  dyspepsia  pills,  and  knew  caii- 
tharides  from  Dover's  powders  readily.  Blifkins  had  long 
been  doubtful  about  this,  though,  which  doubt  recently 
produced  an  entire  revolution  in  his  household  pharmac}'. 
But  Mr.  Blifkins  tells  his  own  story  best,  and  we  leave  its 
recital  to  him. 


THE   BLIFKINS   PAPERS.  109 

"'Mr.  Blifkins,'  says  my  wife,  suddenly  starting  up  in 
the  bed,  and  looking  wildly  into  the  face  of  little  Tommy, 
'  I  believe  this  child  is  going  to  have  the  croup,  or  the 
scarlet  fever,  or  something.  Mr.  Blifkins  !' 

".I  had  got  to  the  stage  of  sleep  when  one  is  conscious 
of  sleeping  and  waking  at  the  same  time  —  the  senses 
steeping  with  somnolent  poppies,  but  not  quite  narcotized 
into  forgetful  ness. 

" '  Mr.  Blifkins  ! '  repeated  my  wife,  giving  me  this  time 
an  unmistakable  pinch. 

"'What  in  the  name  of  tribulation  is  the  matter?' I 
cried  in  something  like  a  pet ;  '  is  the  house  on  fire  ? ' 

"  '  No  j  but  something  is  the  matter  with  Tommy,'  she 
replied ;  '  perhaps  he's  going  to  have  the  croup  —  maybe 
he'll  have  a  fit  —  he's  very  restless/ 

"  I  started  up  and  looked  in  the  face  of  that  little  inno 
cent.  They  always  said  he  looked  just  like  me,  and  cer 
tainly  that  midnight  inspection  gave  very  little  encourage 
ment  to  self-vanity,  for  a  more  disagreeable-looking  little 
cub  I  thought  I  had  never  seen.  He  was  evidently  in 
trouble,  for  his  features  worked,  his  tiny  fists  were  clinched 
hard,  his  eyes  were  partly  unclosed,  and  his  skin  seemed 
quite  dry  and  hot.  I  immediately  took  my  wife's  alarm. 

"  'What's  to  be  done  ? '  I  asked. 

"  'Mr.  Blifkins,'  said  sbe,  'we  must  give  him  something.' 

"  '  Exactly,'  I  responded  ;  '  but  what  shall  it  be  ?  You, 
who  are  such  an  excellent  nurse,  shall  decide.' 

"  I  arose,  and,  '  accoutred  as  I  was,'  stood  ready  to  exe 
cute  her  command.  I  signified  this  to  her  by  saying,  — 

"  '  Now,  my  dear,  say  the  word.' 

"  '  Let  me  see,'  said  she  ;  '  if  it  is  the  croup,  the  medicine 
in  the  bottle  on  the  left  hand  side  of  the  closet  is  the  one. 
It  was  bought  for  Mary,  two  winters  ago.' 

"  I  immediately  proceeded  to  the  closet  adjacent  to  our 
10 


110  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

room,  the  interior  of  which  was  revealed  by  the  dim  light 
of  the  gas.  There  were  long  rows  of  phials  on  the  shelves, 
backed  by  bottles  of  hair  dye,  and  boxes  of  ^indefinable 
articles  in  the  domestic  dispensary.  I  saw  what  I  sup 
posed  was  the  needed  bottle  ;  but,  in  extricating  it  from 
its  position,  I  threw  down  some  half  a  dozen  of  the  inter 
vening  phials,  that  rattled  and  clattered  upon  the  floor  in  a 
manner  that  sounded  fearfully,  some  of  them  breaking,  and 
the  glass  scattering  around,  to  the  dismay  of  my  bare 
feet. 

"  '  Do  break  every  thing  to  pieces  ! '  said  my  wife,  in  a 
tone  not  very  sweet,  considering  her  amiability  of  temper ; 
but  I  imputed  it  to  her  anxiety.  I  brought  the  bottle,  and 
placed  it  in  her  hands. 

"  '  Good  Heavens,  Mr.  Blifkins/  said  my  wife,  *  would 
you  kill  the  child  ?  This  is  volatile  liniment/ 

"  '  The  d —  it  is,'  cried  I,  with  unwarrantable  heat.  My 
wife  sobbed  out,  — 

"  '  O  Mr.  Blifkins !  suppose  we  had  given  him  some  of 
this  by  mistake  !  —  you  never  would  have  forgiven  yourself.' 

"  I  thought  the  change  of  person  in  her  remark  a  little 
invidious,  and  somewhat  unkind,  in  view  of  the  fact  that 
she  had  command  of  the  medicine  chest. 

"  '  I  took  the  bottle  from  the  place  you  told  me/  said  I, 
almost  fiercely. 

"  '  You  couldn't  have  done  so,  Mr.  Blifkins/  replied  my 
wife  ;  '  I  saw  it  on  the  right  hand,  just  inside  the  door,  no 
longer  ago  than  Tuesday  week,  when  Mrs.  McGonagle 
cleaned  the  paint.7 

"  '  Right  hand?  '  I  repeated  after  her ;  'you  said  the  left 
just  now.7 

"I  heard  her  sigh  out  something,  about  < cruelty'  and 
'unfeelingness  '  as  I  went  to  make  another  plunge  among 
the  army  of  bottles. 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  Ill 

"  <  This  must  be  it,  then/  said  I,  seizing  a  four  ouncer, 
nearly  full  of  a  dark  fluid,  by  the  neck,  and  bringing  it  out 
to  my  wife. 

"  i  Gracious  goodness  ! '  exclaimed  she  ;  '  are  you  deter 
mined  to  kill  the  child  ?  That's  arnica,  for  the  rheumatism. 
Mr.  Blifkins,  are  you  awake  ?7 

"  Without  replying  this  time,  I  made  a  dive  for  the  closet, 
taking  down  phial  after  phial,  and  reading  the  smeared  in 
scriptions  as  well  as  I  could.  What  an  ocean  of  lotions, 
and  mixtures,  and  vermifuges,  and  preparations,  and  washes! 
At  length  I  got  hold  of  one  that  I  felt  sure  must  be  it,  be 
cause  I  could  not  by  any  ingenuity  decipher  the  label.  I 
accordingly  carried  it  to  Mrs.  Blifkins  with  the  confident 
air  of  one  who  has  achieved  an  immense  exploit,  holding 
it  out  to  her  with  a  '  There ! '  expressive  of  my  satisfac 
tion. 

"  <  That ! '  -said  my  wife ;  '  that's  not  it ;  that  is  the  chalk 
mixture,  bought  for  Bub  two  summers  ago.7 

"  I  broke  down  at  this,  and  with  a  voice  tremulous  with 
cold,  though  my  wife  always  wrongfully  said  it  was  with  an 
ger,  I  asked  her  why,  in  the  name  of  some  deity  or  other,  she 
didn't  get  up  and  find  it  herself.  She  immediately  arose 
to  the  occasion,  like  a  speaker  at  a  Fourth  of  July  dinner, 
and  sublimely  strode  towards  the  closet,  returning,  a  mo 
ment  thereafter,  with  two  bottles  that  had  escaped  my 
notice,  which  she  held  up  before  me  with  the  simple  but 
comprehensive  remark,  — 

"  '  Stupid ! ' 

"  I  felt  that  I  was  stupid,  and  was  ready  to  admit  the 
fact,  when  I  was  struck  by  the  puzzled  look  that  appeared 
upon  my  wife's  face. 

"  '  Let  me  see/  said  she. 

"  I  made  a  motion  to  turn  up  the  gas,  so  that  she 
might  isee,  but  found  that  she  required  a  clearer  vision  re- 


112  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

garding  some  mental  problem  that  she  was  solving ;  so  I 
let  her  see  as  she  best  might. 

"  '  I  declare/  said  my  wife,  '  I  don't  know  whether  this 
is  the  bedbug  poison  or  the  croup  specific,  they  are  so 
much  alike.' 

"  ( Perhaps  he  hasn't  got  the  croup,'  said  I,  as  I  stooped 
over  the  bed ;  and  there  lay  the  little  fellow  wide  awake, 
threshing  the  air  with  his  two  tiny  fists,  and  making  up  all 
sorts  of  faces  at  the  shadows  upon  the  wall.  I  saw  in  a 
moment  that  we  had  deceived  ourselves,  as  most  parents 
will ;  and,  turning  away,  I  wickedly  said,  — 

"  '  Give  me  the  medicine !  I  think  he's  going  to  have  a 
fit'  — 

"  My  wife  shrieked. 

"  '  Of  laughter,'  I  immediately  added,  and  received  a  box 
on  the  ear  for  my  reward.  I  addressed  my  wife  solemnly, 
for  I  felt  serious :  — 

"  '  Here  we  have  been  collecting  together  this  precious 
amount  of  trash  for  years  for  an  emergency,  and  now, 
when  the  emergency  comes,  what  is  it  good  for  ?  I  tell 
you  what,  wife  —  this  is  the  end  of  such  nonsense.  Will 
you  be  so  kind  as  to  open  that  window  ? ' 

"  She  did  so,  and  in  three  minutes  every  phial  and  its  con 
tents  were  in  the  street.  People  opened  their  windows  to 
ascertain  the  meaning  of  the  crash  of  glass,  and  were  much 
astonished  the  next  morning  to  learn  the  cause  of  it,  but 
more  so  to  hear  me  say  that  I  would  have  nothing  more 
to  do  with  doctor's  stuff,  unless  it  was  in  the  form  of  small 
pellets,  so  harmless  that  nightshade  could  be  taken  as  well 
as  catnip,  for  the  same  diseases,  with  impunity." 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  113 

XXI. 

BLIFKINS  THE  EXPERIMENTALIST. 

"  THERE,"  said  Blifkins,  as  he  laid  a  small  paper  pack 
age  upon  the  table,  while  a  strong  smell  of  camphor  per 
vaded  the  apartment,  "  I  guess  that  will  fix  'em." 

"  Fix  who  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  B.,  wildly,  as  she  thought  of 
her  children,  or  some  other  poisoned  victims  of  Mr.  B.'s 
sudden  insanity. 

"  Have  you  seen  Amos  ? "  he  continued,  without  an 
swering  her  question. 

"Amos?  What  Amos?"  she  queried,  half  rising  from 
her  chair,  as  if  to  cry  for  help  in  the  event  of  his  being 
violent. 

"  Amos-quito  !  "  he  almost  shouted. 

"Now,  don't  make  a  jack  of  yourself,  Benjamin,  if  you 
can  help  it,"  said  she.  "  The  little  brains  you  have  got 
should  be  devoted  to  better  uses  than  making  fun  of  the 
wife  of  your  bosom  ;  but  I  have  learned  to  bear  it,  and  am 
now  ready  to  '  suffer  and  be  strong.'  What  have  you  got 
in  that  parcel  ?  " 

"  That  ?  Dead  Shot  for  mosquitoes  —  Amos,  you  know. 
I  read  it  in  the  paper  that  gum  camphor,  burnt  in  a  room, 
is  a  certain  antidote  against  'em,  and  I'm  bound  to  try  it. 
But  now,  little  wife,  let  us  have  supper,  for  I  am  as  hungry 
as  a  meeting-house." 

"  Do  be  a  little  more  choice  in  your  comparisons,  Benja 
min.  The  children  all  copy  you  in  spite  of  all  I  can  say. 
Only  yesterday  little  Jimmy  said  he  didn't  care  '  three 
shakes  of  a  sheep's  tail '  for  his  uncle  Joshua,  who  is  al 
ways  giving  him  moral  lessons." 
10* 


114  PAUTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Well,  let's  have  supper,  wife,  and  then,  — 

'  When  the  evening  shades  prevail, 
We'll  take  an  old  tin  pan  or  pail, 
And  straightway  with  the  burnt  camphire 
We'll  give  the  skeeters  Jeremiah.' 

See  Watts  for  the  authority  —  quoted  from  memory." 

"  That's  right ;  go  on  making  fun  of  the  most  serious 
things.  No  wonder  the  children  get  all  sorts  of  queer  no 
tions  into  their  heads ;  hut  they  shall  never  blame  me  for 
it  when  they  grow  up." 

Blifkins  chatted  with  his  children,  said  a  cheerful  word 
to  his  wife,  praised  the  cooking,  and  as  the  table  girl,  who 
was  quite  good  looking,  passed  his  chair,  he  gave  her  a 
smile  that  Mrs.  Blifkins  detected. 

-"That's  pretty,"  said  she,  "for  a  married  man  to  do 
right  in  the  presence  of  his  wife  and  children  !  But  I  have 
no  right  to  expect  any  thing  else.  Hadn't  you  better  in 
stall  that  minx  in  my  place,  and  done  with  it  ?  " 

"  No,  my  dear,"  said  Blifkins  ;  "  I  am  very  well  content 
ed  with  the  one  I  chose,  among  fifty,  to  preside  over  my 
mahogany,  and  am  riot  disposed  to  change  at  present." 

After  supper  Blifkins  romped  with  the  children,  joked 
with  Mrs.  B.,  and  forced  that  estimable  lady  into  a  degree 
of  pleasant  humor  that  was  quite  startling.  Before  they 
well  knew  it,  the  hour  of  bed-time  had  arrived,  when  the 
children  were  kissed  good  night  previous  to  being  put  in 
their  little  beds,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  B.  retired  to  their 
chamber,  which  had  been  terribly  invaded  by  hordes  of 
mosquitoes,  making  sleep  impossible  for  several  nights. 

"  I  declare,  my  dear,"  said  Blifkins,  when  just  ready  for 
bed,  "  I've  forgotten,  in  the  pleasures  of  the  evening,  my 
camphor.  It  is  on  the  dining-room  table..  I'll  run  down 
and  get  it." 


THE  BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  115 

"  What ! "  almost  screamed  Mrs.  Blifkins,  "  and  meet, 
perhaps,  the  servant  girls  on  the  stairs  !  I'll  go  myself.'7 

And  go  she  did. 

"And  now,"  said  he,  "little  wife,  for  some  implement  in 
which  to  burn  the  camphor.  Let  me  see  :  your  little  dust- 
shovel  will  do.  Where  is  it  ?  " 

"  What  a  plague  you  are,  Benjamin  ! "  replied  Mrs.  B. ; 
"  and  I  don't  believe  it  will  amount  to  any  thing,  after  it  is 
all  done.  There's  the  shovel." 

Blifkins  crumbled  up  about  a  great  spoonful  of  the  cam 
phor,  and,  placing  it  in  the  shovel,  held  it  over  the  gas- 
burner,  waiting  for  it  to  burn.  He  was  soon  rewarded 
by  seeing  it  smoke,  and  then,  a  moment  after,  there  was  a 
poof!  and  a  blaze,  and  Blifkins,  starting  at  the  suddenness 
of  the  conflagration,  dropped  the  shovel,  and  Mrs.  B.  turned 
off  the  gas.  The  camphor  fell  into  the  wash-basin,  where 
it  soon  burnt  out,  the  faces  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blifkins  look 
ing  ghastly  in  the  light  while  it  lasted,  and  their  night 
dresses  rendered  the  scene  very  spectral. 

"  Better  luck  next  time,"  said  Blifkins,  smiling  in  the 
dark,  and  feeling  round  for  the  camphor. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  replied  Mrs.  B.,  sententiously. 

"  I'll  succeed  or  perish  in  the  attempt,"  said  Benjamin, 
brandishing  the  shovel,  as  he  relighted  the  gas. 

"  You'll  never  do  any  thing  with  it,"  replied  Mrs.  B. ; 
"  and  if  I  were  a  mosquito,  I  should  laugh  at  you." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Blifkins,  as  he  crumbled  the  cam 
phor,  "did  you  ever  hear  that  it  was  the  female  mosquitoes 
that  do  all  the  stinging  ?" 

"  A  story  invented  by  a  man,"  replied  she,  "  to  slander 
us  poor  women,  as  though  we  hadn't  enough  laid  upon  us 
already." 

"Well,  here  we  go  again,"  said  Blifkins,  holding  his 
shovel  over  the  blaze.  . 


116  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

This  time  the  gum  ignited  finely,  and  a  bright  blaze  and 
a  dense  smoke  followed,  the  latter  rising  to  the  ceiling  in  a 
black  cloud,  and  rolling  along  the  wall  in  opaque  convolu 
tions.  This,  experiment  was  followed  by  another  ;  and  as 
B.,  like  the  fabled  Colossus  of  Rhodes,  as  depicted,  stood 
with  his  hand  raised  aloft,  holding  the  blazing  shovel,  he 
passed  the  open  door  where  his  children  lay,  the  oldest  of 
whom,  waking,  shouted,  "  Fire  !  "  and  rushed  for  the  entry, 
where  the  servant  girls  were  huddling,  having  already 
smelt  the  smoke.  They  opened  the  door,  and  all  rushed 
in  pell-mell,  as  Blifkins  was  completing  his  last  grand 
round  before  the  flame  sunk  to  its  grave,  and  then  rushed 
out  again,  as  Mrs.  B.  threw  herself  into  the  breach,  and 
forced  them  back.  The  cry  of  the  child  had  attracted  at 
tention  in  the  street,  besides ;  and  Blifkins,  hearing  a  mur 
mur  of  voices  below,  looked  out  upon  a  crowd  of  people 
assembled,  and  a  voice  demanded,  — 

"  What  the  deuse  is  the  matter  ?  " 

He  assured  them  that  nothing  was  the  matter;  that  his 
child  was  frightened,  that's  all,  with  a  nightmare;  and  told 
them  there  was  no  need  of  the  hose-carriage  they  had 
brought  from  round  the  neighboring  corner.  After  some 
altercation,  the  crowd  dispersed,  an  opinion  being  expressed 
that  Blifkins  was  "  a  humbuggin'  cuss." 

The  house  at  last  was  still,  and  the  pair  retired  to  sleep 
in  an  atmosphere  of  camphor  smoke-  that  wa's  almost  suf 
focating. 

"  Now,  my  dear,"  said  Blifkins,  "  I  hope  we  shall  enjoy 
a  quiet  night's  sleep,  free  from  the  trumpet-notes  of  the 
mosquitoes." 

B-z-z-z,  b-z-z-z  !  right  in  his  very  ear. 

At  that  moment,  Mrs.  B.  gave  herself  a  severe  slap  in 
the  face,  as  if  she  were  inflicting  personal  chastisement ; 
and  Blifkins,  with  both  arms  out  of  bed,  thrashed  the 
air  like  a  windmill. 


THE   BLIFKINS  PAPERS.  117 

"  I  told  you  so,"  said  Mrs.  B.,  giving  herself  a  dig  in  the 
eye,  and  bringing  her  elbow  plump  on  Blifkins's  nose ; 
"  but  you  never  will  take  my  advice.  I  am  done  expect 
ing  that.  Men  nowadays  had  rather  ask  the  advice  of 
other  people's  wives  than  their  own,  and  I  suppose  it  is  all 
right;  but  don't  think  it  is  just  the  thing  (slap)  to  expect 
every  thing  of  a  woman,  and  withhold  confidence  (slap), 
and  smile  at  servant  maids,  and  visit  other  women  (a  vi 
cious  slap) ;  and  now  this  last  farce  that  you  have  played 
(slap),  with  a  shirt  so  ridiculously  short ;  and  Heaven  knows 
where  it  will  end  (slap),  which  was  disgraceful  enough  ; 
and  the  girls  rushing  in  as  they  did  "  — 

She  drew  the  sheet  over  her  head,  her  voice  died  to  a 
confused  murmur,  and  Mrs.  Blifkins  slept. 

Blifkins  fought  in  silence  with  his  fate.  The  enemy 
had  been  driven  from  the  ceiling  above,  and  had  attacked, 
front  and  rear,  in  the  field  below,  coming  not  as  single 
spies,  but  in  battalions,  until  he  was  fain  to  beat  a  retreat, 
and  hide  his  head  beneath  a  defence  of  cotton  cloth,  vow 
ing  to  himself,  as  he  passed  into  the  land  of  dreams,  that 
he  would  do  on  the  morrow  what  he  should  have  done  long 
before  — buy  some  mosquito  netting. 

Next  morning  it  was  found  that  the  snow-white  wall 
was  grimy  with  the  smoke,  the  paper  smutched,  and  a 
villanous  smell  remained,  an  abiding  evidence  of  the  night 
attack.  The  whole  affair  was  the  subject  of  a  severe  lec 
ture  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  a  re-affirmation  by  Mrs.  B. 
of  the  often-repeated  statement  that  there  was  never  a 
woman  so  cruelly  treated  as  she. 

When  Blifkins  arrived  at  the  store,  he  took  up  the  Post, 
and  the  first  item  that  met  his  view  was  :  — 

"  There  was  a  slight  fire  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Blifkins, 
No.  16  Cliff  Street,  last  evening  ;  but  it  was  extinguished  by  Officers 
Mudhead  and  Spinks  without  causing  a  general  alarm." 


THE  MODERN  SYNTAX. 

DR.  SPOONER  IN  SEARCH  OP  THE  DELECTABLE. 


119 


DR.    8POONER    IN   SEARCH   OF  THE   DELECTABLE. 


INTRODUCING  DR.  SPOOLER. 


THOSE  who  have  been  privileged  listeners  of  Dr.  Diony- 
sius  Spooner,  as  he  has  described  to  them  his  adventures 
while  in  search  of  "the  Delectable,"  will  not  be  offended 
at  this  imperfect  "rendering  of  them  ;  while  others  who 
have  not  been  thus  privileged  will  see  in  them  the  strug 
gles  of  a  great  mind  towards  the  attainment  of  an  object, 
and  may  receive  from  their  example  an  impetus  in  the 
right  direction,  as  though  it  were  from  the  toe  of  an 
intellectual  boot,  energetically  applied.  The  writer  be 
came  acquainted  with  the  doctor  through  a  train  of  very 
singular,  yet  natural,  circumstances  —  singular  from  the 
manner  of  their  occurrence,  rather  than  from  their  charac 
ter.  Passing  through  the  streets  one  day,  he  overheard  two 
gentlemen  in  earnest  conversation,  one  of  whom  said, 
"  Well,  Dr.  Spooner  said  so."  This  sentence  forced  itself 
upon  his  mind,  and  he  pondered  upon  what  Dr.  Spooner 
could  have  said,  and  who  Dr.  Spooner  was,  with  no  hope  of 
solving  the  mystery.  He  was  afterwards  at  a  picture  sale, 
where  the  fate  of  an  original  Rembrandt,  the  subject  of 
which  none  could  make  out,  was  hanging  on  the  blow 
of  the  auctioneer's  mallet.  "  Why,  gentlemen,"  said  he, 
will  you  let  this  go  so  low,  when  Dr.  Spooner  vouches 

11  121 


122  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 

for  its  authenticity  ?  "  The  bids  then  ran  rapidly  up  to  a 
dollar  and  a  half,  when  it  was  knocked  off.  Dr.  Spooner 
again  !  He  was  evidently  a  connoisseur,  but  there  was  no 
room  for  inquiry.  When  the  steamboat  Henry  Morrison 
went  down,  in  Boston  Harbor,  it  was  stated  that  Dr.  Spooner 
was  present,  and  lent  able  assistance  in  preparing  the  chow 
der.  He  thus  proved  himself  an  epicure,  —  an  "epicac" 
Mrs.  Partington  called  it,  —  and  again  provoked  the  inquiry, 
"  Who  is  Dr.  Spooner  ?  w  The  answer  to  the  question  was 
further  withheld,  and  on  a  day  some  months  later,  while  the 
writer  was  in  a  store  matching  some  calico  for  home  con 
sumption,  there  was  quite  a  commotion  near  the  door.  He 
asked  the  meaning  thereof,  and  was  told  that  Dr.  Spooner 
was  passing  by.  "  Tell  me,"  said  he,  suddenly  seizing  his 
informant  by  the  collar,  "who  is  Dr.  Spooner?"  The  per 
son  extricated  himself,  and,  simply  saying  "I  don't  know," 
passed  out.  There  was  no  one  present  who  could  answer 
the  question.  But  Fate  was  kinder.  One  day,  while  pur 
chasing  his  dinner  at  a  stall  in  the  market,  a  remarkable 
and  very  imposing  person  was  cheapening  a  leg  of  mutton 
at  the  same,  having  purchased  which,  and  given  a  very  lucid 
direction  as  to  how  it  should  be  trimmed,  Jie  threw  down  a 
card,  to  the  address  of  which  he  wished  the  delicacy  sent. 
Glancing  at  it,  the  writer  read,  — 


CHIROPODIST, 

111    Q    Street." 


INTRODUCING  DR.    SPOONER.  123 

Here  was  a  discovery!  " Hesitating  then  no  longer/' 
the  writer  hastily  said,  "  Pardon  me,  sir !  but  I  am  very 
desirous  of  making  your  acquaintance.  Your  name 
has  reached  me  so  favorably,  that  you  need  not  pro 
duce  vouchers  of  character;  for  myself,  try  me."  "I 
should,  perhaps,  leave  the  tribunals  to  do  that,"  said 
he,  blandly,  "but  I  like  your  impudence,  and  will 
encourage  your  advances.  Come  and  see  me,  and  we 
will  make  an  equal  exchange  —  you  try  my  mutton, 
and  I  will  try  you ;  sheep  for  sheep,  you  know."  The 
victim  was  annoyed,  but  gulped  down  his  chagrin. 
This  was  the  commencement  of  an  acquaintance  most 
beneficial  to  the  writer.  While,  paregorically  speak 
ing,  sitting  at  the  feet  of  this  modern  Gamaliel,  the 
narration  of  his  efforts  to  *  attain  the  Delectable  has 
fallen  in  showers  of  soporific  illusion  about  the  ears  of 
the  listener,  until,  inspired,  the  Muse  plumed  herself 
for  the  flight  that  should  portray  the  persistency  which 
strove  for  so  much  and  gained  so  little. 

The  walks  through  which  the  modern  Syntax  wandered 
in  search  of  the  Delectable  are  not  so  varied  as  those 
pursued  by  his  ancient  prototype,  in  quest  of  the  Pictur 
esque,  because  the  space  devoted  to  the  subject  is  not  so 
extended ;  reminding  the  reader,  doubtless,  of  that  classi 
cal  incident  where  the  three  wise  men  of  Gotham  went  to 
sea  in  a  bowl,  and  it  was  said,  in  excuse  for  the  brevity  of 
the  narrative,  — 

"  If  the  bowl  had  been,  stronger, 
The  song  had  been  longer." 


124  PAKTTNGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

The  incidents,  however,  have  herein  been  compressed  agree 
ably  to  a  wise  editorial  admonition,  but  recently  promul 
gated,  to  "boil  it  down,"  meaning  just  this  kind  of 
matter  ;  and  therefore  the  latter  production  bears  the  same 
relation  to  the  former  that  Leibig's  extract  of  flesh  does  to 
the  "stalled  ox." 

The  author  trusts  that  the  recital  of  the  several  inci 
dents  described  may  afford  pleasure  and  profit  to  the 
reader,  and  win  for  the  distinguished  subject  thereof  new 
renown. 


THE  MODERN  SYNTAX. 
DR.  SPOONER  IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  DELECTABLE. 


ON  Monday  morning,  with  the  sun  uprist, 
Good  Dr.  Spooner  ate  his  steak  in  haste, 

And  hurried  down  his  coffee  and  his  twist, 
As  though  no  moment  he  would  idly  waste, 

Then  took  his  cane  within  his  sturdy  fist, 
With  animation  on  his  features  traced, 

And  started  forth  in  attitude  reflectahle,* 

To  seek,  ?mid  airs  mundane,  the  goal  Delectable. 

*  The  author  at  the  outset  —  before  he  has  led  the  good  doctor 
through  any  of  the  labyrinthine  walks  of  life  —  with  the  independ 
ence  of  the  poet,  who  will  not  be  limited  by  the  conventionalities 
of  dictionaries,  grammars,  or  common  sense,  claims  the  right  to  coin 
as  many  words  as  his  opinion,  or  the  needs  of  rhyme,  may  require. 
Hence  the  word  "  reflectable  ; "  and  the  claim  is  introduced  to  disarm 
the  critics  of  the  Atlantic,  North  American,  or  Foreign  Quarterly, 
who  might  snap  at  this  seeming  and  only  fault,  as  a  pickerel  might 
at  a  frog's  leg. 

125 


126  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


n. 

Before  him  lay  the  undeveloped  scene 

That  Fate,  impatient,  waited  him  to  show ; 

He  stood  a  moment  with  a  thoughtful  mien, 
As  if  uncertain  which  path  he  should  go, 

Then  held  his  cane  his  finger  tips  between, 
That,  by  its  falling,  he  his  course  might  know. 

North-east !     7Tis  well.     Now  all  my  doubts  at  rest, 

Since  chance  so  wills  it,  I'll  go  sou'-sou'-west 


in. 


Not  he,  alone,  to  go  adverse  to  Fate ; 

Some  do,  with  all  prognostics  pointing  clear, 
And  full  success  attending  at  the  gate  ; 

They  do  not  stop  propitious  hints  to  hear, 
But  clutch  at  phantom  shapes  that  tempting  wait, 

Till,  to  their  disappointment  and  their  fear, 
They  see  their  error  and  neglected  track, 
With  little  hope  of  ever  getting  back. 


IV. 


All  have  desire  to  win  the  happy  goal, 

And  all  strike  out  o'er  some  illusive  gravel, 

Investing  hope  and  earnestness  of  soul 
The  mystery  of  the  future  to  unravel, 

Finding,  too  oft,  to  their  dismay  and  dole, 

Their  road,  like  Jordan,  very  hard  to  travel  — - 

Their  delectation,  like  the  Paddy's  flea, 

Within  their  grasp,  and  yet  not  quite  to  be. 


THE  MODERN  SYNTAX.  127 


V. 

Diversity  of  tastes  prompts  divers  aims, 

And,  as  the  whim  controls,  men  blindly  go  it, 

Pursuing  here  and  there  their  little  games, 

Through   which,   for   bliss   set   out,   they   think   they'll 
show  it ; 

Each  plays  his  part,  with  equal  hopes  and  claims, 
Trusting  that  Fate  propitious  will  bestow  it; 

But  very  few  attain  the  culmination 

That  gives  the  sought-for  boon  of  delectation. 


VI. 


Though,  for  that  matter,  comes  the  question  up, 

What  is  the  boon  for  which  they  thus  are  striving  ? 

Pill  to  the  brim  Joy's  most  enchanting  cup, 

Some  would  reject  it,  other  draughts  contriving, 

Being  more  happy  far  to  take  a  sup 

Prom  sombre  springs,  or  in  their  depths  be  diving  j 

A  strange  anomaly  we  too  often  see, 

Where  happiness  is  sought  in  misery. 


VII. 


No  sympathy  have  I  with  such  as  these ; 

But  what  they  do  is  what  they  deem  the  best ; 
The  genial  soul,  the  heart  in  fullest  ease, 

Comes  up  the  nearest  my  ideal  of  blest ; 
We  will  not  quarrel  —  each  his  pathway  sees, 

And  travels  it  for  happiness  in  quest : 
Each  to  his  taste,  as  the  old  lady  said 
WThat  time  she  kissed  the  tenant  of  the  shed. 


128  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 


vni. 

So  Dr.  Spooner,  with  his  heart  aglow, 

Stood  ready  to  attain  the  boon  I  speak  of; 

The  Fates  had  fixed  the  path  that  he  must  go 
By  his  cane's  falling —  you  recall  the  freak  of— 

He  rested  as  he  felt  the  breezes  blow 

From  a  fair  hill  of  which  he  saw  the  peak  of, 

And  thus  addressed  them,  like  a  necromancer 

Demanding  of  unsentient  things  an  answer : 


IX. 


"  Tell  me,  ye  winged  winds,  as  on  ye  fly, 

Hast  come  from  scenes  where  delectation  waits  ? 

Point  me,  0  winds  !  that  sport  beneath  the  sky 
Where  perfect  joy  the  craving  spirit  sates ; 

Direct  my  steps,  that  I  may  quickly  hie 

Where  bliss  unfolds  its  amaranthine  gates  ! " 

The  winds  deigned  no  reply,  but  swifter  sped, 

Tearing  the  doctor's  hat  from  off  his  head. 


x. 


There  is  no  more  provoking  thing  I  know 

Than  this  :  to  have  one's  hat  torn  from  his  pate. 

No  sympathy  doth  any  one  bestow, 

And  grins  the  awkward  accident  await ; 

The  curious  crowd  look  on  to  see  us  go, 
As  we  pursue  the  fleeing  thing  of  hate, 

UntiJ,  perhaps,  some  chap,  a  little  faster, 

Plants  his  thick  No.  Twelves  on  our  new  castor 


THE  MODERN   SYNTAX.  129 


XI. 

He  stood  a  moment  when  regained  his  tile, 

And  on  the  incident  reflecting  dwelt ; 
He  paid  the  fact  the  tribute  of  a  smile,  — 

A  feeling  tribute,  for  the  hat  was  felt. 
"I've  chased  this  hat  the  fraction  of  a  mile," 

He  said,  "  and  this  sage  thought  comes  through  my  pelt : 
That,  as  I've  won  it,  racing  with  the  wind, 
( In  the  long  run '  I  happiness  shall  find." 


XII. 

And,  thus  assured,  he  sped  with  eager  feet, 
Caroming  here  and  there  as  on  he  flew, 

Pushing  some  oif  the  sidewalk  to  the  street, 
And  by  collision  bringing  others  to, 

Exciting  talk  we  will  not  now  repeat, 
And  angry  thoughts  awaking  not  a  few, 

When  to  a  full  stop  was  he  quickly  brought, 

Like  a  blue-bottle  in  a  fly-trap  caught. 


XIII. 

There  moved  along,  exactly  in  his  way, 

One  of  those  well-made-up,  artistic  women, 

Who  are,  as  one  might  very  justly  say, 

One  quarter  flesh  and  blood,  and  three  fourths  tfimmin' 

He  tried  to  pass  her,  giving  ample  play 
To  all  the  furbelows  about  Her  streaming 

When,  spite  of  all  his  wary  care  and  pain, 

He  found  his  boots  entangled  in  her  train* 


130  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


XIV. 

He  turned  about  and  gazed  on  what  he'd  done, 
Confounded  at  the  seeming  mischief  dire  ; 

But  when  he  saw  the  spitefulness  that  shon,e 
Forth  from  her  eyes,  like  that  same  baleful  fire 

We  read  about,  excuse  he  proffered  none, 
But  said,  "  If  I  am  sorry  I'm  a  liar; 

What  right  had  she,  at  just  that  time,  to  spread 

Above  the  spot  whereon  I  chose  to  tread  ?  " 


XV. 

But  in  a  moment  more  he  felt  contrite, 

And  held  his  head  down  with  emotion  humble  ; 

He  o'er  the  pave  had  no  exclusive  right, 

And,  'mongst  her  things-come-afterwards  to  stumble, 

He  had  endangered  an  annoying  plight, 

At  which  she  well  might  frown  on  him  or  grumble ; 

And  then  he  turned,  repentant,  but,  a  goner, 

He  saw  the  lady  turn  a  distant  corner. 


XVI. 

And  this  impressed  itself  upon  his  mind ; 

No  one  is  happy  disregarding  others, 
As  men  are  so  untwistingly  combined 

That  rending  one  the  great  remainder  bothers  ; 
And  but  as  one  is  just,  polite,  and  kind, 

And  all  his  selfish  aspirations  smothers, 
Can  he  expect  that  happiness  below 
Which  the  exalted  soul  alone  can  kribw. 


JONES 


DR.    SPOONER   ON   A  'JTflAIN.  —  Pige  130. 


THE   MODEEN  SYNTAX.  131 


XVII. 

He  moved  along  'mid  scenes  of  active  life, 
And  stoutly  strove  his  object  to  attain  ; 

There  was  excitement  in  the  pressing  strife, 
But  with  it  all  there  mixed  a  sense  of  pain  ; 

With  selfishness  society  was  rife, 

And  finding  all  his  expectation  vain, 

Heart-sick  and  weary,  with  unlevel  head, 

He  turned  himself  towards  home,  and  went  to  bed. 


XVIII. 

And  then  the  dreams  born  of  his  urgent  wish  ! 

Led  through  fair  scenes  that  waking  ne'er  reveals, 
Feasting  on  spreads  of  flesh,  and  fowl,  and  fish, 

Quaffing  rare  drinks  of  most  attractive  seals, 
All  right  side  up  his  favor-beckoning  dish, 

Holding  such  cards  as  kindest  fortune  deals, 
Waking  at  morn  with  resolution  stout, 
His  quest  for  happiness  to  carry  out. 


XIX. 

One  day  is  like  another  in  the  race 
For  some  pet  object,  every  else  forgot ; 

So  the  good  doctor  daily  held  his  chase 

To  find  'mong  mundane  scenes  the  blissful  lot, 

The  one  strong  hope  to  rest  his  weary  pace 
When  he  should  reach  the  delectating  spot. 

Of  all  the  spots  that  I  know  worth  the  trying 

A  fifty  spot  is  the  most  satisfying. 


132  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


XX. 


Thus,  as  with  zeal  elate  he  wandered  out, 
His  mind  intent  on  seeking  delectation, 

And  with  an  eager  eye  he  looked  about, 
Giving  all  things  a  wise  examination, 

Unheeding  an  admonitory  shout, 

That  of  some  danger  made  ejaculation, 

There  came  a  snow-slide  from  some  upper  height, 

And  Dr.  Spooner  disappeared  from  sight ! 

XXI. 

A  mingled  feel  waits  accidents  like  these : 
A  grateful  thrill  like  an  unuttered  prayer, 

As  one  from  peril  saved  his  status  sees, 
And  then  a  pressing  tendency  to  swear, 

Which  from  oppressive  wrath  the  temper  frees, 
—  So  some  folks  think,  in  which  I  take  no  share, 

But  the  good  doctor,  as  he  moved  once  more, 

Took  stock  in  neither  mood,  nor  prayed  nor  swore. 


XXII. 

In  fact,  just  then  in  search  for  happiness, 
And  doubtful  if  'twere  pious  or  profane, 

He  would  not  compromise  his  chance  for  bliss, 
But  non-committal  would  a  while  remain. 

Many  another  does  the  same  as  this, 
Desirous  some  pet  object  to  attain; 

For  policy  and  selfishness  prevail, 

While  interest  steers,  and  caution  trims  the  sail. 


THE  MODERN  SYNTAX.  133 


XXIII. 

The  greatest  pleasure  that  the  world  can  give 
Is  that  we  draw  from'  intellectual  sources ; 

Freed  from  the  sensuous  dross  in  which  we  live, 
We  'mid  the  purer  ethers  vent  our  forces, 

And  misspent  hours  we  happily  retrieve 
In  following  those  crystal  water-courses 

That  flow  from  founts  in  mental  mountains  springing, 

And  to  our  feet  the  choicest  gifts  are  bringing. 


XXIV. 

So  Dr.  Spooner  thought  he'd  take  to  books, 

And  bought  them  lavishly,  —  a,ll  subjects  choosing 

Having  them  placed  in  their  adapted  nooks, 
With  catalogues  their  resting-place  disclosing ; 

Bound  handsomely  in  calf,  that  graceful  looks 
Might  add  attraction,  and  enhance  the  using,  — 

All  books  that  might  a  reader's  thoughts  awaken, 

From  Blood-and-Thunder  Nibs  to  Friar  Bacon. 


xxv. 

His  heart  ached  at  the  woe  of  thrilling  stories, 
Fraught  with  depictions  of  unreal  life  ; 

He  read  in  histories  the  crowning  glories 

That  flowed  from  fields  of  sanguinary  strife ; 

Philosophy  and  physics  passed  before  his 
Eyes,  with  the  light  of  ripe  reflection  rife, 

Yet  betwixt  Reade  and  Bacon  he  confessed 

He'd  neither  read,  but  thought  E-eade  was  the  best. 

12 


134  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


XXVI. 

Then  borrowers  came,  and  fastened  on  his  hoard, 
Splitting  his  sets  remorselessly  to  pieces  ; 

And  in  those  cases  where  they  were  restored, 

They  came  back  dog-eared  and  denied  with  creases; 

Until,  at,  last,  beyond  endurance  bored, 

Said  he,  "From  now  henceforward  all  this  ceases  1" 

Then  locked  his  door  upon  his  precious  shelves, 

And  left  his  authors  pondering  on  themselves. 


XXVII. 

The  tempter  whispered,  "Go  it  while  you're  young  I 

Taste  the  delirious  tumult  of  the  hou/; 
The  siren  sings  as  sweet  as  e'er  she  sung, 

The  senses  plead  with  unabated  power; 
Bring  your  dull  soul  joy's  halcyon  scenes  among, 

And  pluck,  while  yet  it  blooms,  life's  brightest  flower; 
Don't  mure  yourself  till  felt  years'  chilling  blasts, 
And  quaff  the  cup  of  pleasure  while  it  lasts." 


XXVIII. 

In  dissipation  did  the  doctor  dip, 

And  strove  to  find  what  fun  there  might  be  in  it. 
He  pressed  the  sparkling  goblet  to  his  lip, 

Till  his  old  head  hummed  like  an  ancient  spinet ; 
He  joined  in  pleasure's  jolly  partnership, 

In  wild  adventure  mixing  every  minute  ; 
But  when  he  found  his  nose  all  raw  and  red, 
"  There's  very  little  fun  in  sport  like  this,"  he  said. 


THE  MODEKN   SYNTAX.  135 


XXIX. 

A  wholesome  lesson  this,  that  all  may  learn 

Who  try  such  roads  to  find  the  bliss  they  crave. 

They're  lit  by  lamps  that  oil  Plutonic  burn, 

And  lead  through  scenes  that  weaken  and  enslave ; 

Brigands  of  Passion  lurk  at  every  turn 

To  trip  the  feet  of  those  their  prowess  brave, 

And  the  "  good  times  "  that  lured  the  soul  away, 

Are  drafts  on  time,  with  no  funds  left  to  pay. 


XXX. 

Many  of  those  these  sprightly  lines  who  read 
Know  how  it  is  themselves  —  no  slang  intended. 

Though  fair  the  promise  all  too  pronely  heed, 
With  honeyed  hope  and  expectation  blended, 

The  hope  soon  prematurely  goes  to  seed, 

And  winter  comes  before  the  summer's  ended  j 

The  roses  turn  to  ashes  'iieath  the  bread, 

And  dirges  wail  the  season  that  has  fled. 


XXXI. 

Were  I  disposed  a  moral  to  indite, 

Here  most  unquestionably  is  its  place : 

Don't  wait  repentance  until  appetite 

No  more  has  power  its  progress  to  retrace; 

Complete  worn-outness  surely's  not  the  plight 
To  give  repentance  much,  if  any,  grace. 

JTwas  no  great  merit  in  old  Uncle  Ned 

Corn-cakes  to  eschew  with  his  teeth  all  shed. 


186  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


XXXJI. 

He  walked  and  pondered,  with  his  brow  erect, 
Devising  in  his  mind  which  way  to  turn 

To  gain  the  point  his  fancy  did  affect, 

Convinced,  indeed,  that  he  had  much  to  learn 

Before  he  saw  the  beacon-lights  reflect, 
That  on  the  coast  of  pure  enjoyment  burn, 

When,  lost  in  reverie,  his  reason  fled, 

He  found  himself  down  cellar  —  on  his  head. 


XXXIII. 

A  cellar  doorway,  though  a  fearful  trap, 

Affords  a  cautionary  moral,  clear, 
To  every  visionary,  dreamy  chap, 

Impelled  by  contemplation  high  or  beer, 
To  heed  his  steps,  lest  they  should  chance,  mayhap, 

To  lead  him,  witless,  into  trouble  drear.      ^ 
Although  'tis  well  uplifted  gaze  to  show, 
We  should  have  half  an  eye  for.  things  below. 


XXXIV. 

And  the  good  doctor  lay  a  moment  thus, 

Not  knowing  how  or  why  he  should  be  there, 

The  world  all  muddled  in  a  precious  muss, 
Concerning  which%he  didn't  know  nor  care; 

And  then  he  rose,  and  said,  "  Ridiculous ! " 
Running  his  fingers  through  his  matted  hair, 

In  which  confused  and  much-mixed-up  condition, 

He  felt  just  fit  to  be  a  politician. 


THE  MODEEN   SYNTAX,  137 


XXXV. 

In  politics  the  doctor  took  a  stand, 
And  blurted  with  an  unremitting  zeal, 

Retailing  dogmas  up  and  down  the  land, 
Professing  earnestly  the  public  weal ; 

Condemning  all  who,  on  the  other  hand, 
Chanced  differently  regarding  them  to  feel, 

And  was  a  cog-wheel  active  as  could  be 

In  the  great  whirl  of  party  enginery. 


xxxvi. 

As  legislator,  in  the  town  and  state, 

Across  the  stage  with  giant  steps  he  strode ; 

His  was  the  dictum  on  which  hung  the  fate 
Of  mighty  hobbies  that  the  lobby  rode  ; 

He  took  110  bribes  his  act  to  compensate, 

And  voted  as  the  "greatest  good"  was  showed ; 

Bich  only  in  the  sense  of  duty  done, 

And  —  certain  gifts  his  self-denial  won. 


XXXVII. 

Strange  fancy  his  who  seeks  in  politics 
For  happiness ;  as  well  might  he  essay 

To  honey  find  in  husks,  or  oil  in  bricks, 
Or  new  potatoes  in  New  England  May ; 

His  chiefest  recompense  the  meed  of  kicks 
Constituents  ungrateful  always  pay, 

And  find  he's  purchased,  when  it  is  too  late, 

A  tiny  whistle  at  a  monstrous  rate. 


138  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOHK. 


XXXVIII. 

Sure  delectation  must  be  found  in  Fame, 

As  Solomon  had  said  'twas  more  than  riches  ; 

And  so  his  sail  he  spread  to  catch  a  name, 

Courting  each  breeze  to  draw  and  test  its  stitches ; 

His  name  appeared,  with  eulogy  aflame, 

And  all  the  slabber  that  the  vain  bewitches; 

Besides,  his  face  graced  each  pictorial  journal, 

With  praise  or  blame  allied  —  alike  infernal. 


XXXIX. 

He  talked  his  mouth  for  fame  in  every  place, 
Was  always  found,  wherever  wished  or  not ; 

From  a  street-corner  speech  to  saying  grace 
He  rose  to  the  occasion  piping  hot ; 

Sometimes  a  slap  he'd  welcome  in  the  face, 
And  a  nose-pulling  now  and  then  he  got; 

But  all  such  favors  helped  his  little  game 

To  win  the  "  glittering  height "  on  which  was  fame. 


XL. 


His  head  grew  dizzy  on  his  lofty  perch, 
—  His  reputation  mere  factitious  show,  — 

And,  like  a  weather-vane  upon  a  church, 

He  turned  just  as  the  fickle  wind  might  blow, 

Till  counter  breezes  gave  a  sudden  lurch, 

And  down  he  came  'mong  common  folks  below, 

The  ridicule  of  every  humble  eye  — 

The  golden  cynosure  but  gilt,  brought  nigh. 


THE  MODERN   SYNTAX.  139 


XLI. 

For  fame  he'd  sacrificed  all  thoughts  of  peace ; 

.Had  found  antagonism  everywhere  ; 
Had  lied  and  swore  his  chances  to  increase ; 

Had  tried  philanthropy,  and  wore  long  hair ; 
For  every  wheel  he  had  the  needed  grease ; 

Tn  every  public  movement  had  a  share  j 
Denied  himself  all  comfort  for  a  name ; 
"  And  this,"  said  he,  « is  all  there  is  of  fame ! " 


XLII. 

In  wit's  display  he  next  great  effort  made, 

And  searched  the  dictionary  through  for  puns, 

While  such  extreme  abandon  he  displayed, 

His  jokes  popped  off  as  though  they  had  been  guns ; 

Grave  people  all  around  him  were  afraid, 

And  'gainst  his  influence  bewared  their  sons, 

Bidding  them  think  their  sires. ne'er  acted  thus, 

And  calling  him  "  disreputable  cus- 


XLIII. 

Tomer"  which  softens  some  the  verbal  force  — 
Like  the  old  clergyman  of  whom  they  tell, 

Who,  vainly  trying  to  secure  his  horse, 
By  his  momentum  in  the  brambles  fell ; 

And,  angered  thereat,  made  the  mattter  worse 
By  shouting  out  vehemently,  "  0  hell ! " 

But  seeing  in  an  instant  his  offence, 

"  Lelujah  "  added,  which  quite  changed  the  sense. 


140  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 


XLIY. 

The  doctor  made  a  laugh  where'er  he  went  — 
He  had  no  scruple  thus  to  serve  them  so ; 

Even  a  funeral  scene  could  not  prevent, 
And  where  an  undertaker  had  to  go, 

His  mates  such  unction  to  the  season  lent, 

He  said,  "  What  'sprit  de  corpse  these  folks  do  show ! ' 

?  Twas  villanous,  but  those  the  rue  that  quaffed 

Looked  through  their  sables  and  at  Spooner  laughed. 


XLV. 

The  Lecture  Bureaus  then  must  have  him  out, 
And  curious  people  came  from  far  and  near, 

With  buttons  sewed  on  more  than  extra  stout, 
Fearing  to  burst  them  with  the  fun  theyrd  hear  j 

He  heard,  one  side,  the  injudicious  shout, 
•But  something  like  a  groan  filled  t'other  ear; 

Snowed  in  and  criticised,  self-reproved  and  weary, 

He  felt,  as  did  admiring  friends,  'twas  dreary. 


XLVI. 

And  next  in  Fashion's  walks  the  doctor  pressed, 
And  clothed  himself  in  most  approved  attire, 

With  brainless  glorying  at  being  dressed 
Up  to  the  standard  that  the  modes  require ; 

From  hat  to  boots  resplendent  as  the  best, 
With  but  to  shine  the  limit  of  desire ; 

And  every  one  inferred,  who  chose  to  scan, 

That  Dr.  Spooner  was  a  "  killing  man  " ! 


THE  MODERN   SYNTAX,  141 


XL  VII. 

But  then  the  thought  upon  his  senses  stole, 

"  What  am  I  but  an  ape  ?  —  though  not  so  mean 

Is  mine  as  Darwin  says  was  man's  first  role 
Before  the  footlights  of  this  earthly  scene,  — 

The  copy  hut  of  others,  with  a  soul 

That  grasps  infinitude  —  too  grand,  I  ween, 

To  spend  its  faculties  in  such  base  use 

As  hatching  goslings  from  a  tailor's  goose." 


XL  VIII. 

"  This,  then,  is  evident,"  he  further  mused,  * 
"  That  delectation  does  not  come  to  those 

Who  spend  their  strength  in  attributes  abused, 
Or  ripen  into  gorgeousness  of  clo'es  ; 

Neither  to  those  with  qualities  unused, 
Who  dawdle,  to  day's  dying,  in  a  doze ; 

But  unto  those  who  try,  by  work  or  wit, 

The  world's  great  family  to  benefit." 

XLIX. 

In  gentle  recreation  did  he  strive, 

Attending  all  the  small  fetes  that  were  going ; 
Wae  great  at  fairs,  where  ladies  so  contrive 

To  keep  the  cream  of  human  kindness  flowing ; 
Tried  summer  picnics  with  their  glee  alive, 

That  such  a  wealth  of  promises  were  showing ; 
Joined  social  clubs  and  literary  coteries, 
And  took  a  stand  high  up  'niong  Pleasure's  votaries. 


142  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCH  WORK. 


L. 


Thin  dissipations,  such  as  these,  at  besty 
Gave  little  recompense  to  his  ambition  j 

He  seaward  turned,  and  on  the  ocean's  breast 
He  thought  he  saw  his  ardent  hope's  fruition ; 

He  sang  sea-songs,  and  "  Heave  ho'd  "  with  the  rest, 
But  found  the  sea  unsteady  in  position ; 

He  didn't  relish  his  first  evening's  supper, 

And  closed  his  "  Heave  ho's"  in  the  leeward  scupper. 


LI. 


He  murmured  faintly,  "  Please  set  me  on  shore  ; 

I  love  the  grand  and  ever-restless  ocean, 
But  I  believe  that  I  can  love  it  more 

On  tvrrafirma,  where,  unfelt  its  motion, 
I  can  delight  to  hear  its  mighty  roar, 

And  throw  myself  with  rapturous  devotion  ; 
But  here,  alas !  the  power  that  rules  the  sea 
Rules  it  too  crookedly  by  far  for  me. 


LIT. 


Then  Dr.  Spooner  ventured  into  trade,  ^ 

And  learned  to  buy  and  sell  with  ready  art ; 

He  many  paying  operations  made, 

And  got  the  trick  of  traffic  all  by  heart ; 

So  shrewd  was  he  in  action  he  displayed, 
He  won  the  fame  of  being  "  devilish  smart," 

Which  means  —  well,  any  thing  respectable  — 

But  found  that  trade  was  far  from  the  delectable. 


THE  MODERN  SYNTAX.  143 


LIII. 

It  would  have  done  you  good  to  hear  him  lie  — 
Or  froze  your  blood  — just  as  you  felt  inclined ; 

He'd  swear  that  black  was  white  a  trade  to  tie, 
And  all  so  plausible,  that  caution,  blind, 

Took  stock  at  once,  without  a  how  ?  or  why  ? 
Such  marvellous  integrity  to  find ; 

And  then  he  slapped  his  pockets,  well  content 

That  he  had  made  a  mighty  big  per  cent. 


LIV. 


"  Mercantile  shrewdness,"  though  it  fleece  and  skin, 
Is  ne'er  dishonest  by  the  rules  of  trade, 

And  those  who  deepest  plunge  and  largest  win 
Sleep  lightest  on  the  bargains  they  have  made; 

Conscience  to  such  makes  no  unpleasant*  din, 
And,  at  the  future  not  one  whit  dismayed, 

They  "  will "  their  wealth  with  most  complacent  air, 

And  lay  them  down  the  just's  reward  to  share. 


LV. 


To  Education  then  the  doctor  flew, 

The  very  field  for  happiness,  he  thought ; 

The  total  that  he  guessed,  and  what  he  knew, 
Were  into  active  requisition  brought ; 

He  went  to  all  Conventions  with  a  gout 
That  was  a  substitute  for  what  he  sought, 

And,  being  quite  a  favorite  in  the  city, 

They  made  him  member  of  the  School  Committee. 


144  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


LVI. 

Then  pleasure  turned  to  business  —  early,  late, 
His  door-bell  rang  with  clamorous  appeal, 

Permits  to  grant,  parental  doubts  to  bate, 
Teachers  to  hear,  vexatious  feuds  to  heal, 

New  books  to  choose,  the  salaries  to  rate, 
The  pangs  of  interrupted  peace  to  feel, 

The  public  growling  in  its  discontent, 

And  watching,  lynx-eyed,  each  invested  cent. 


LVII. 

With  not  a  chance  to  steal,  and  snubbed  and  bored, 

His  privacy  invaded  as  a  right ; 
His  motives  doubted  and  his  claim  ignored, 

His  life  a  constant,  ignominious  fight ; 
The  slave  of  school-book  agencies,  that  poured 

Their  arguments  so  thick,  that,  vanquished  quite, 
He  vowed  no  more  his  soul  with  such  to  vex, 
Then  "handed  in "  his  thin  official  "checks." 


LVIII. 

The  doctor  next  dipped  fiercely  into  morals, 

Went  regularly  every  morn  to  prayer ; 
Mixed  earnestly  in  theologic  quarrels, 

Where  men  for  truth's  sake  pulled  each  other's  hair ; 
Had  for  all  ill  the  formulaic  abhorrals,  — 

Two  words,  I  think,  you'll  not  find  anywhere,  — 
Struck  for  hair-splitting  dogmas  left  and  right, 
And  deemed  that  he  was  "  fighting  the  good  fight." 


THE  MODEKN  SYNTAX.  145 


LIX. 

He  drew  his  skirts  aside  when  others  passed 
Of  different  belief  from  that  he  held; 

He  fanned  dissension  with  persistent  blast, 
And  with  a  Pharisaic  rapture  swelled ; 

He'd  gained  perfection  in  belief  at  last, 
And,  from  his  lofty  perch,  all  else  beheld 

In  darkness  lost  —  salvation's  chances  slim — 

But  he  was  safe,  and  what  were  they  to  him  ? 


LX. 


Small  delectation  could  he  find  herein, 
And  worry  of  contention  grayed  his  hair; 

He'd  searched  in  every  other  one  for  sin, 
And  looked' within  to  find  it  rampant  there: 

He'd  thought  through  self-perfection  bliss  to  win, 
But  saw  its  fallacy  in  half-despair, 

And  then  backed  out,  not  finding  what  he'd  fain, 

Placing  his  baggage  on  some  other  train. 


LXI. 


He'd  be  a  Mason :  surely  he  could  find 

Within  those  ancient  halls  the  thing  he  sought; 

It  seemed  delightful  to  his  ardent  mind 

That  happiness,  like  onions,  could  be  bought ; 

And  so  he  acted  as  he  felt  inclined, 

And  soon  was  to  the  ancient  gridiron  brought, 

Seeking  for  blissfulness  one  seldom  sees, 

As  lawyers  get  to  heaven,  by  degrees. 
13 


146  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOBK. 


LXII. 

He  spread  himself  on  mystic  pins  and  seals, 
And  knew  more  signs  than  doth  the  Zodiac ; 

"Was  letter-perfect  in  the  springs  and  wheels 
Of  night-trains  running  the  mysterious  track; 

Took  every  step  the  Order's  scope  reveals, 
Until,  from  the  "ineffable"  looking  back, 

He  wept,  like  what's  his  name,  who  lived  of  yore, 

Because  he  couldn't  master  something  more. 


LXIII. 

Then  Dr.  Spotfner  took  to  rural  shades, 

And  dressed  himself  in  most  unique  attire, 

A  costume  something  like  the  knave  of  spades', 
As  odd  as  piscator  could  e'er  desire ; 

And  then  he  followed  brooks  through  grassy  glades 
To  catch  the  trouts  that  epicures  admire" ; 

But  ne'er  could  he  by  any  subtle  crook 

Induce  the  fry  to  bite  his  baitless  hook. 


LXIV. 

He  sought  dim  nooks  by  water's  babbling  streams, 
He  breathed  the  sweet  "  balm  of  a  thousand  flowers," 

He  laid  him  on  the  emerald  sward  for  dreams, 
He  hid  himself  within  the  woods'  deep  bowers, 

He  revelled  in  the  morning's  opening  beams, 

He  sweltered  through  the  sultry  evening  hours  — 

Poisoned  by  dogwood,  bit  by  bugs  and  flies, 

He  fled  from  happiness  'neath  rural  skies. 


THE  MODERN  SYNTAX. 


LXV. 

And  then  despairingly  he  made  complaint : 
<e  Oh  !  who  can  tell  me  where  is  happiness  ? 

With  much  endeavor  I  am  worn  and  faint, 
And  each  step  seems  to  show  the  progress  less 

In  striving  for  that  boon  which  hope  did  paint, 
Which  seems  more  distant  as  my  steps  I  press. 

Tell  me,  ye  wise  ones,  in  earth's  mighty  bound, 

Where,  tell  me  where,  may  happiness  be  found  ?  " 


LXVI. 

"  Here  stay  your  steps,  my  boy,"  a  veteran  spoke ; 

"I'm  just  the  chap  'lUpoint  you  to  the  spot ; 
I've  sought  for  happiness  through  fire  and  smoke  — 

My  brierwood  pipe  —  and  here  is  where  I've  got : 
The  search  for  happiness  is  but  a  joke, 

For  which  you  needn't  go  all  round  the  lot ; 
I'll  ease  your  caput  of  its  great  quandary  — 
For  delectation  —  see  the  dictionary." 


LXVII. 

Then  laughed  aloud  that  execrable  hind, 

While  Dr.  Spooner  turned  in  strong  disgust. 

But  as  he  thought  of  it,  he  felt  inclined 

To  think  the  rough  man's  ribaldry  was  just; 

For  to  himself  he  said,  "  I  nowhere  find 
The  delectation  of  my  hope  and  trust 

But  in  the  book  ;  and  therefore  I  will  wait, 

And  let  tMngs  happen  —  as  it  pleases  fate. 


148  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 


LXVIII. 

* 

And  then  he  took  things  as  they  came  about, 
NOT  strove  from  fate  his  happiness  to  wring; 

At  unpropitious  luck  he  made  no  rout, 

But  was  serene  as  when  joy's  birds  did  sing, 

And  in  contentedness  of  purpose  stout, 

He  fou»d  himself  as  "  happy  as  a  king,"  — 

Feeling  true  delectation  did  not  rest 

On  any  thing  outside  the  seeker's  breast. 


NOTE.  —  The  author  read  the  foregoing  to  a  young  and  charming 
critic,  who  had  just  completed  the  ecstatic  story  of  "  The  Bloody 
Hand,  or  the  Avenger  of  Darrville ; "  and  she  immediately  suggested 
that  if  Dr.  Spooner  had  found  some  amiable  being  worthy  of  his 
choice,  —  as  in  the  instance  of  which  she  had  just  read, — he  would 
undoubtedly  have  found  the  happiness  he  sought.  It  seemed  to- 
her  that  he  had  thrown  away  a  great  deal  of  valuable  time. 


ORACULAR   PEARLS. 

BY   MRS.   P. 


13* 


STRIPPINGS. 


AFTER  the  great  thunder-storm  that  shook  things  up  so 
a  neighbor  came  in  with  her  face  clothed  in  wonder.  She 
sank  into  a  seat,  fanning  herself;  and  after  recovering  her 
breath,  which  threatened  to  leave  her,  she  said,  — 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Partington,  did  you  ever  ?  " 

Mrs.  P.  looked  at  her  as  if  wondering  whether  she  ever 
did  or  not,  but  waited  further  development. 

"  Don't  you  think,"  the  visitor  continued,  "  that  our  neigh 
bor  Goggles  was  struck  down  by  the  lightning,  and  was  car 
ried  into  his  house  in  an  incomprehensible  condition ! 

"  Indeed  !  was  he  ?  "  said  Mrs.  P. 

"  Yes ;  he  was  standing  in  a  doorway,  when  the  light 
ning  came  down,  throwing  him  to  the  ground ;  and  he  swal 
lowed  a  pint  of  the  fluid,  the}'-  think." 

"  You  don't  say  so  ! "  ejaculated  the  dame,  notwithstand 
ing  the  neighbor  had  just  said  so,  and  made  a  sort  of  men 
tal  calculation  while  tapping  her  snuff-box  reflectively. 
"A  pint!"  she  said,  at  length;  "well,  it  must  have  been 
stronger  than  any  fluid  they  have  round  here,  for  a  pint 
of  no  other  kind  could  ever  have  served  him  so.  It  shows 
what  a  difference  there  is  betwixt  Jersey  lightning  and  the 
real  article,  and  should  be  a  warning  to  him  as  long  as  he 
lives." 

J51 


152  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

They  talked  it  over  between  them,  with  an  accompani 
ment  by  Ike  on  a  sheet  of  zinc,  in  attempted  imitation  of 
the  thunder. 


n. 

"POLITICAL  canvass ! "  said  Mrs. Partington,  as  she  read 
the  accounts,  in  the  papers,  of  party  engineering  in  num 
bering  the  clans.  "  What  can  they  be  going  to  do  with  it, 
I  wonder  ?  " 

"  I  know,"  cried  Ike,  looking  up  from  the  floor  where  he 
was  framing  a  kite  with  two  of  her  best  curtain  sticks. 

"What?"  she  asked. 

"  They  are  going  to  canvass  the  State  with  it,"  he  replied. 

"  That  may  do  very  well  for  hams,"  said  she ;  "  but  for 
the  State  'twould  be  ridiculous.  I  wonder  now  if  these 
breaches  of  political  faith  that  we  see  advertised  in  print, 
are  not  made  out  of  it ;  and  it  must  be  poor  stuff,  that 
gives  way  so  easy.  If  it  is  cheaper  than  satanet,  it  may 
do  for  the  straightened  Democrats,  poor  creaturs,  who 
have  so  little  to  bless  themselves  with." 

"  Political  canvass,"  said  the  schoolmaster,  who  had  come 
in  and  heard,  unperceived,  the  most  of  her  soliloquy,  "is 
simply  the  count  of  political  noses,  in  trying  to  find  out 
how  many  are  going  to  vote  for  certain  parties." 

"  Ah !  thank  you,"  said  she,  as  she  sniffed  up  a  few  titil 
lating  grains  of  fragrant  rappee;  "is  that  it?  Well,  peo 
ple  use  such  strange  terms  that  it  is  hard  to  understand, 
sometimes.  But  it  is  just  as  well,  perhaps ;  at  any  rate,  a 
mistake  is  no  haystack,  as  Paul  used  to  say,  which  is  un 
fortunate  with  hay  at  forty  dollars  a  ton." 


ORACULAR  PEARLS.  153 


III. 

"  IF  any  one  understands  tire  anathema  of  a  turkey,  they 
can  desecrate  it  better,"  said  Mrs.  Partington,  as  she  stood, 
carving-knife  in  hand,  endeavoring  to  make  her  way  through 
the  bones  and  muscles  of  a  veteran  of  the  gobbler  species. 
The  connections  would  not  sever,  and  in  vain  the  guests 
waited. 

"  I  think  anathema  would  do  some  good,"  responded 
Dr.  Spooner,  smilingly  j  "  at  any  rate,  I  think  I  should 
try  it." 

"Dear  me!"  she  continued,  still  persevering  in  her 
efforts  ;  "  did  anybody  ever  see  such  a  provoking  thing  ? 
The  butcher  said  it  would  be  a  good,  serviceable  bird,  and 
I  declare  it  is  as  tough  as  a  blacksmith's  apron.  I  wish 
everybody  had  it." 

"And  yet,"  said  Old  Roger,  "although  it  is  so  tough, 
there  is,  I  should  judge,  considerable  tendonness  about  it," 
winking  at  the  company. 

"  It  may  be,"  replied  she,  "  in  further  than  I  have  got ; 
but  the  elementary  apparatuses  that  can  digest  this  must 
be  like  that  of  the  oyster  of  the  desert,  that  they  say  can 
eat  nails  and  such  things  with  the  greatest  felicity." 

The  afternoon  was  devoted  to  riving  the  turkey,  but  Ike 
made  it  up  in  the  small  matters. 


154  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


IV. 

IKE  rushed  in  one  day,  with  his  eyes  opened  to  their 
widest,  and  threw  his  cap  into  a  pan  of  custard  pudding 
that  Mrs.  Partington  had  just  prepared  for  baking. 

"  Do  be  careful,  dear  !  "  said  Mrs.  P.,  extricating  the  cap,- 
and  shaking  off  the  accruing  matter.  "  There's  your  new 
cap,  now,  completely  satiated  with  custard  ! " 

u  I  wish  I  could  be,"  muttered  the  boy.  Then  he  broke 
out  with,  "  Oh,  Pve  seen  such  a  sight !  I  just  saw  a  woman 
go  by  here  with  more'n  fifty  pounds  of  hair  on  her  head ! " 

•'Don't  say  that,"  replied  Mrs.  P.,  severely;  "that  is  a 
falsehood,  which  isn't  any  better  than  lying  ;  and  though 
some  say  such  things  with  impurity,  I  cannot  allow  it.  I 
know  the  chinyons  and  the  waterfowls  are  large  enough, 
but  fifty  pounds  is  impossible.  You  should  not  say  so,  be 
cause  you  remember  how  Hannah  Nyas  and  Sophia  were 
struck  dead  for  lying ;  and,  though  .very  few  have  suffered 
so  sence,  it  isn't  because  they  don't  deserve  it,  inercy 
knows,  but  because  there's  so  many  of  'em  that  there 
wouldn't  be  any  left." 

"  It  isn't  a  lie,  neither,"  said  Ike.  "  She  did  have  fifty 
pounds  of  hair  on  her  head." 

Mrs.  Partington  turned  on  him  the  burning  disk  of  her 
large  round  spectacles.  There  was  a  concentration  of  re 
buke  in  the  look  she  gave.  Her  finger  was  raised  like  the 
note  of  wonder. 

"This  is  original  sin,  total  depravity,  and  close  com 
munion  all  together,"  said  she  with  a  tone  of  horror. 

"  I  did  see  it,"  he  repeated.  "  'Twas  a  woman  who  had 
been  picking  hair,  and  was  carrying  it  home  in  a  bag  on 
her  head." 

She  smiled  forgiveness,  and  the  custards  were  a  success. 


ORACULAR   PEARLS.  155 


V. 

"  WHAT  a  label  it  is  upon  the  character  of  Boston  !  "  said 
Mrs.  Partington,  as  she  read  a  speech  on  the  liquor  bill 
that  reflected  on  Boston.  "  There  is  no  place  where  be 
nevolence  is  so  aperient  as  here.  For  my  part  I  don't 
know  where  so  much  is  done  for  the  suffering,  —  and  any 
body  can  see  it  that  can  read,  —  for  how  often  we  see  '  free 
lunch/  in  the  windows  of  our  humane  institutions  !  You 
never  see  sich  things  in  the  country,  as  much  better  as 
they  think  themselves." 

Mrs.  Partiugton  paused,  looking  over  the  top  of  the  pa 
per  at  the  country  member,  as  though  she  were  resting  her 
gaze  there  preparatory  to  making  another  shot,  while  Ike 
sat  on  the  floor,  lathering  the  cat  with,  raw  custard. 


VI. 

"I  HAVE  never  liked  Prussia,"  said  Mrs.  Partington, 
"  since  a  peddler  swingled  me  in  selling  me  some  blue  clay 
for  Prussian  blue ;  and  as  for  the  war,  I  have  no  doubt 
that  General  Benzine  will  take  spots  out  of  'em,  to  say 
nothing  of  General  Troches,  who  will  undoubtedly  realize 
all  the  expectorations  of  the  French  people." 

The  old  lady  carried  the  matter  no  further,  except  to 
deprecate  the  war  that  was  so  destructive  to  life  and  pa 
tience  in  trying  to  make  out  the  reports,  while  Ike  was 
taking  French  and  Prussian  towns,  made  of  the  house 
hold  effects,  alternately,  upon  the  floor. 


156  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


VII. 

"  ARE  you  in  favor  of  the  prohibitive  law,  or  the  license 
law  ?  "  asked  her  opposite  neighbor  of  the  relict  of  P.  P., 
Corporal  of  the  "  Bloody  'Leventh." 

She  carefully  weighed  the  question,  as  though  *she  were 
selling  snuff,  and  answered,  — 

"  Sometimes  I  think  I  am,  and  then  again  I  think  I  am 
not." 

Her  neighbor  was  perplexed,  and  repeated  the  question, 
varying  it  a  little. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  '  Mrs.  Partington  Twilight  Soap '  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  everybody  has  seen  that ;  but 
why  ?  " 

"  Because,"  said  the  dame,  "  it  has  two  sides  to  it,  and  it 
is  hard  to  choose  between  'em.  Now  here  are  my  two 
neighbors,  contagious  to  me  on  both  sides  —  one  goes  for 
probation,  t'other  for  licentiousness ;  and  I  think  the  best 
thing  for  me  is  to  keep  nuisance."" 

She  meant  neutral,  of  course.  The  neighbor  admired, 
and  smiled,  while  Ike  lay  on  the  floor,  with  his  legs  in  the 
air,  trying  to  balance  Mrs.  Partington's  fancy  waiter  on 
his  toe. 

VIII. 

"  THE  mortification  of  the  nincom  tax,"  said  Mrs.  Par 
tington,  as  she  heard  Ike  read  that  it  was  to  be  modified, 
her  countenance  revealing  in  its  'expression  the  depths 
that  lay  below,  "  is  just  what  people  are  complaining  about, 
and  gracious  knows  it  is  bad  enough  without  making  it 
more  mortifying ;  for  a  good  many  nincoms  can't  stand  it, 


OEACULAK  PEAELS.  157 

and  so  get  exemptied,  and  don't  have  any  thing  at  all  when 
the  tax  impostures  come  round,  which  is  very  mortifying, 
undoubtedly,  to  them,  where  they  would  like  to  swell  the 
government  coiffures,  as  good  .loyal  citizens.  But  I  de 
clare,  though  I  don't  hold  any  mosity  against  the  ones  who 
tax,  —  because,  like  punishment,  it  is  for  our  good,  —  it 
does  seem  hard  to  tax  a  widow's  might  to  raise  enough  to 
pay  a  nincom  on  three  dollars,  which  is  about  as  much 
mortification  as  an  assessor  can  cause,  and  I  should  like  to 
tell  'em  so." 

„"  But,"  said  Ike,  thrusting  in  his  oar,  which,  like  a  crow 
bar  among  cog-wheels,  caused  the  machine  to  come  to  a 
sudden  stand-still,  "  this  isn't  a  mortification  at  all ;  'tis  a 
modification  —  m,  o,  d,  mod." 

"  No  matter,  dear,  however  it  may  be  spelt,"  said  she, 
pausing  a  moment  to  balance  her  answer,  like  a  javelin, 
before  hurling  it,  "  nor  what  it  may  mean  ;  it  is  the  same 
old  imposition,  any  way,  and  all  are  nincoms  if  they  don't 
complain  about  it." 

She  ran  down  here,  like  a  jolly  old  clock,  while  Ike  em 
ployed  himself  by  filling'  the  sails  of  an  improvised  boat 
in  the  milk-pan  with  the  bellows. 


IX. 

CHRISTMAS  Ike  was  made  the  happy  possessor  of  a  fid 
dle,  which  he  found  in  the  morning  near  his  stocking. 

"  Has  he  got  a  musical  bent  ?  "  Banfield  asked,  of  whom 
Mrs.  Partington  was  buying  the  instrument. 

"  Bent,  indeed  !  "  said  she  ;  "  no,  he's  as  straight  as  an 
error." 

He  explained  by  repeating  the  question  regarding  his 
musical  inclination. 

14 


158  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied ;  he's  dreadfully  inclined  to  music 
since  he  had  a  drum,  and  I  want  the  fiddle  to  see  if  I  can't 
make  another  Pickaninny  or  an  Old  Bull  of  him.  Jews- 
harps  is  simple,  though  I  can't  see  how  King  David  played 
on  one  of  'em,  and  sung  his  psalms  at  the  same  time ;  but 
the  fiddle  is  best,  because  genius  can  show  itself  plainer  on 
it  without  much  noise.  Some  prefers  a  violeen  ;  but  I  don't 
know." 

The  fiddle  was  well  improved,  till  the  horsehair  all  pulled 
out  of  the  bow,  and  it  was  then  twisted  up  into  a  fish-line. 


"YouR  neighbor  Kloots  has  grown  quite  obese,"  said 
the  schoolmaster  to  Mrs.  Partington,  as  they  sat  by  the 
window. 

Mrs.  Partington  greatly  deprecated  any  ill  remark  about 
any  one,  and  she  heard  the  observation  in  silence,  until  the 
schoolmaster  continued,  — 

"  Don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  to  his  being  a  beastj"  replied  she,  "I  am  not 
willing  to  say,  though  some  say  he  is  very  glutinous  in  his 
habits,  and  sometimes  is  indicted  to  steamiousness ;  but 
there  is  nothing  harmonious  about  him  thakl  know  of;  so 
I  should  be  loath  to  call  him  so.  The  least  we  say  is  soon 
est  mended,  and  none  of  us  are  any  better  than  we  ought 
to  be,  with  corruption  without  and  temptation  within,  and 
the  Lord  knows  what,  to  disturb  our  equal  Abraham,  and 
bring  us  down  all  of  a  sudden,  as  Mr.  Buss  cut  his  leg  "  — 

"  I  meant  fat  —  obese  —  fat,  madam,"  said  the  school 
master. 

"  Well,"  she  replied,  "  perhaps  he  is,  which  you  might 
have  said  so  at  first ;  but  that  has  no  weight  against  his 


OKACULAR  PEARLS.  159 

character,  that  I  know  of  if  he  came  honestly  by  it,  which 
is  none  of  my  business." 

The  rebuke  was  well  received,  and  Ike,  who  had  lis 
tened  attentively,  drew  with  charcoal  the  picture  of  a  fat 
man  on  the  white  closet  door. 


XI. 


"OuR  Indian  Relations !"  said  Mrs.  Partington,  as  she 
read  such  telegraphic  head  in  her  paper ;  "  well,  I  wonder 
what  they  will  trump  up  next !  Our  Indian  relations,  in 
deed  !  for  my  part  I  never  shall  allow  that  they  are  rela 
tions  of  mine,  the  red-skinned  vagabones.  I  know  they 
are  apt  to  call  the  president  their  Great  Eather,  which  is  a 
scandal  and  a  shame,  I  dare  say ;  but  that  is  no  reason 
why  we  should  be  called  their  relations,  of  which  we 
have  enough  already  that  are  white,  though  some  are 
not  so  respectable  that  we  can  brag  much  about  'em.  It 
is  constitutional  and  proper  to  take  the  black  man  as  a 
brother,  and  giving  him  the  right  of  suffering  with  the  rest 
of  us ;  he  isn't  so  bad  in  any  thing  but  color,  and  useful  in  a 
window-washing  point  of  view  ;  but  these  red  skins  as  re 
lations !  It  makes  my  blood  boil  to  think  of  it."  She 
fanned  herself  vigorously  with  a  long-handled  dipper,  as 
Ike  took  up  the  paper,  which  had  fallen  on  the  floor.  "  It 
don't  mean  relations,"  said  he  "  that  come  to  see  you  and 
stay  till  you  get  tired  of  'em.  'Tis  only  the  way  things 
stand  betwixt  Indians  and  the  government."  "  Is  that 
all?"  she  said,  smilingly;  "well,  I  wish  the  papers  would 
be  a  little  more  obscure  in  stating  a  thing."  Ike  went  out 
impressed  with  the  importance  of  knowing  a  great  deal,  and 
lost  all  his  marbles  at  "  in  the  ring  "  before  he  came  in. 


160  PAHTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


XII. 

IT  was  suggested  in  the  Boston  Medical  Journal  that 
May-day  be  observed  on  the  fifteenth  instead  of  the  firs£ 
of  the  month,  on  account  of  the  coldness  of  the  latter  in 
our  latitude,  and  the  danger  to  the  children,  who  will 
parade,  weather  or  no.  "Bless  their  little  hearts!7'  said 
Mrs.  Partington,  meaning  the  children  to  whom  the  para 
graph  referred ;  "it  is  a  spettacle  to  see  their  arms  blue  as 
gold  fishes,  with  chaplains  of  paper  roses  round  their 
heads,  and  their  noses  as  red  —  the  little  dears  —  as  lob 
ster  sallet.  I  do  hope  they  will  differ  it,  I'm  shore,  for  I 
always  said  May  had  got  turned  hind  part  afore,  or  that 
there  was  something  wrong  about  it,  I  couldn't  tell  which, 
and  I  am  glad  folks  are  becoming  conscientious  of  the  fact. 
Putting  it  in  the  middle  of  the  month,  'twon't  make  no 
difference  which  end  comes  first,  and  it  will  be  such  a 
relief  to  the  poor  children  who  go  out  to  pick  violence  and 
roses  on  the  first  of  May,  and  get  brown-  critters  in  their 
throats  and  newrology  in  their  limbs.  To  say  nothing  of 
the  young  people  who  ride  on  horseback,  like  turtle  doves, 
out  of  town  to  breakfast,  and  take  cold  and  die  early  and 
often,  and  "  — 

"  Where's  my  marbles  ?  "  said  Ike,  pulling  out  a  drawer, 
and  throwing  the  contents  in  a  chair. 

"Don't  be  so  hasty,"  said  she,  interrupted  in  her  May 
day  reflections  as  a  stream  may  be  by  an  invidious  fall  of 
earth,  and  she  hastened  to  preserve  order,  and  find  the 
alleys,  but  there  were  none  ;  and  he  went  to  bed  to  dream 
of  a  five-cent  investment  in  twozers  next  morning.  The 
thread  of  May-day  was  broken,  and  Mrs.  Partington 
subsided  into  her  knitting. 


ORACULAR   PEARLS.  161 


XIII. 

"WHAT  is  the  matter  ?"  said  Mrs.  Partington,  as  she 
passed  by  the  corner  of  Hamilton  Place  on  the  morning 
the  tickets  were  sold  to  Mr.  Dickens's  readings  ;  "  what  is 
the  possession  forming  for  ?  " 

There  was  a  human  lining  to  the  whole  of  Hamilton 
Place,  and  she  had  taken  it  for  a  procession. 

"  Dickens,"  was  the  reply. 

"  The  Dickens  it  is  ! "  she  replied,  contemplatively  ;  "  and 
right  opposite  the  Park  Street  Church,  too,  where  the  truth  is 
dispensed  with  every  Sunday ;  and  goodness  knows  there's 
no  use  to  run  after  the  Dickens,  when  he  is  always  so 
ready  to  come  at  any  one's  beck  and  call.  But  things 
have  changed,  to  be  sure,  and  a  good  coat  covers  up  the 
original  sin  of  tail,  and  the  cloven  foot  is  not  visible  in 
No.  8  boots." 

"This  isn't  the  old  fellow,"  said  a  struggler;  "this  is  a 
horse  of  quite  another  color,  mem." 

"  I  don't  care  what  sort  of  a  color  he  is,"  replied  she, 
"  though  the  original  black  was  respectable ;  and  they  do  say 
he  keeps  it  up  in  some  societies  where  it  is  necessary  to 
preserve  appearance,  and  touches  the  young  ladies'  white 
shoulders  with  a  hand  as  soft  as  velvet ;  but  I  don't  know. 
At  least  he's  bad  enough  in  whatever  dress  heicomes,  or 
no  dress,  for  that  matter;  and  Heaven  knows  we  must 
watch  him  who  goes  about  seeking  whom  he  may  devour 
somebody." 

"  He  means  Charles  Dickens,"  said  Dr.  Spooner,  who 
was  by  her  side,  "  the  writer  who "  —  He  proceeded 
with  a  long  panegyric,  which  it  is  needless  to  repeat,  to 
which  she  responded  with  a  long  "  Oh  ! "  like  a  distended 
hoop,  as  if  it  were  a  relief  at  being  extricated  from  her 


162  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

dilemma,  while  the  crowd  moved  on  to  get  their  tickets. 
Ike  was  making  motions  to  all  of  the  cars  to  stop,  and 
more  than  twenty  drivers  shook  their  whips  at  him. 


XIV. 

"  DEAR  me ! "  said  Mrs.  Partington,  as  she  swept  three 
tea-cups  from  the  table  in  an  herculean  effort  to  annihilate 
a  fly  that  was  buzzing  round  her  head.  "  Dear  me  !  I 
don't  see  what  they  were  made  for.  Sich  an  annoyance  to 
one,  to  say  nothing  of  the  pieces  !  and  goodness  knows  if 
my  life  isn't  tormented  out  of  me  by  'em,  getting  into  the 
molasses  jug,  and  covering  every  thing  with  perfect  impu 
rity,  for  we  can't  help  ourselves,  and  taking  sich  freedom 
with  us  that  they  go  into  our  mouths  and  noses,  which  is 
not  pleasant,  though  when  mixed  with  huckleberries  it 
doesn't  make  much  difference  in  cake.  It  does  seem  to 
me  a  great  waste  of  time  and  material  to  make  'em." 

"  But,"  said  Dr.  Spooner,  "  flies  were  not  made  in  vain. 
They  are  undoubtedly  a  species  of  humble  scavenger,  tak 
ing  up  the  offal,  as  it  were,  in  the  atmosphere,  that  but  for 
them  might  induce  disease." 

"  That  may  be  so,"  replied  she,  calmly.  "  I  don't  want  to 
find  no  fault  with  Providence  ;  but  they  are  awful  troubles, 
if  that's  what  you  mean ;  and  as  for  the  disease,  I'll  risk  it 
without  'em." 

There  was  determination  in  her  eye,  and  a  wet  towel  in 
her  hand  as  she  said  this,  and  every  observing  fly  would 
have  made  himself  scarce  at  once ;  but  many  that  night 
failed  to  answer  at  roll  call.  Ike  puzzled  Dr.  Spooner  by 
asking  him  if  tempusfugit  didn't  mean  fly  time. 


ORACULAR  PEARLS.  163 


XV. 

"  HAVE  you  got  any  consecrated  lye  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Par- 
tington  of  the  druggist,  during  anniversary  season.  "  No," 
replied  he,  winking  at  his  chief  clerk,  "  hut  you  can  get  it 
anywheres  round  here  all  this  week."  "  Indeed ! "  she 
continued ;  "  is  it  so  common  as  that  ?  I  thought  only  the 
pothecaries  had  it.  But  no  matter.  I  dare  say  it  isn't  any 
hetter  than  the  old  kind,  for  a  lye  is  a  lye,  any  way, 
whether  'tis  consecrated  or  not ;  for  the  purification  is 
what  is  wanted,  and  a  lye  well  stuck  to  will  be  jest  as  well, 
if  the  clothes  is  clean ;  that's  what's  looked  at,  and  the 
lye  isn't  thought  of.  I  dare  say  you  haven't  got  any  dese 
crated  cod-fish,  either  ?  You  haven't  ?  I  thought  so, 
though  some  ain't  so  particular.  They'll  desecrate  any  thing 
for  money ;  and  what  else  can  you  expect  when  everybody 
seems  to  be  coveting  his  neighbor's  goods  ?  and  Heaven 
knows  where  it  will  end,  with  beefsteak  forty  cents  a 
pound,  which  John  Rogers  himself  couldn't  have  stood. 
Why,  Isaac ! "  The  remark  was  caused  by  Ike,  who 
stood  practising  hydrostatics  by  douching  the  flies  on  the 
wall  with  a  new  syringe. 


XVI. 

"How  limpid  you  walk !  "  said  a  voice  behind  us,  as  we 
were  making  a  hundred  and  fifty  horse-power  effort  to 
reach  a  table  whereon  reposed  a  volume  of  Bacon.  "  What 
is  the  cause  of  your  lameness  ?  "  It  was  Mrs.  Partington's 
voice  that  spoke,  and  Mrs.  Partington's  eyes  that  met  the 
glance  we  returned  over  our  left  shoulder.  "  Gout/'  said 
we,  briefly,  almost  surlily.  "  Dear  me,"  said  she  ;  "  you  are 
highly  flavored !  It  was  only  rich  people  and  epicacs  in 


164  PAKT^GTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

living  that  had  t!  e  gout  in  olden  times."  "  Ah ! "  we 
growled,  partly  in  response,  and  partly  with  an  infernal 
twinge.  "Poor sou  . !  "  she  continued,  with  commiseration, 
like  an  anodyne,  in  the  tones  of  her  voice  ;  "  the  best  rem 
edy  I  know  for  it  is  an  embarkation  of  Roman  wormwood 
and  lobelia  for  the  part  infected,  though  some  say  a  cran 
berry  poultice  is  best ;  but  I  believe  the  cranberries  is  for 
erisipilis,  and  whether  either  of  'em  is  a  rostrum  for  the 
gout  or  not,  I  really  don't  know.  If  it  was  a  fraction  of 
the  arm,  I  could  jest  know  what  to  subscribe."  We  looked 
into  her  eye  with  a  determination  to  say  something  severely 
bitter, becau.se  we  felt  allopathic  just  then;  but  the  kind 
and  sympathizing  look  that  met  our  own  disarmed  sever 
ity,  and  sinking  into  a  seat  with  our  coveted  Bacon,  we 
thanked  her.  It  was  very  evident,  all  the  while  that  sTie, 
or  they,  staid,  that  Ike  was  seeing  how  near  he  could 
come  to  our  lame  member,  and  not  touch  it.  He  did  touch 
it  sometimes,  but  those  didn't  count. 


XVII. 

"Foil  pity's  sakes,  what  are  you  doin'  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Par- 
tington,  as  Ike  came  in,  and  threw  himself  forward  on  his 
hands,  elevating  his  heels  in  the  air,  and  foiling  against 
the  clean  buffet  in  the  corner,  his  gravelly  shoes  endanger 
ing  the  ancient  china ;  "  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  Are 
your  brains  so  decomposed  that  you  have  forgot  the  end 
you  should  keep  uppermost  ?  " 

Ike  recovered,  and  simply  said  he  was  trying  a  little 
gymnastic  exercise. 

"I  should  think  it  was  nasty  exercise,"  said  she,  wiping 
the  dirt  from  the  buffet  with  her  apron  ;  "  but  you  should 
be  keerful.  Only  think  of  conjecture  of  the  brain,  and  see 


OKACULAR  PEARLS.  165 

how  many  men  kill  themselves  during  operation  of  mind, 
and  let  it  be  a  warning  to  you.  Besides,  it  isn't  pretty  nor 
proper.  What  should  you  think  of  my  turning  heels  over 
head,  now,  and  cutting  up  antiques  like  a  circuit  rider  ?  " 

"Bully!"  shouted  Ike,  clapping  his  hands;  "jest  try 
it  j  you  can't  do  it,  I  het." 

"  I  sha'n't,  you  disgraceless  hoy ! "  said  she,  blushing  to 
the  roots  of  her  cap ;  "  and  if  I  see  you  trying  any  more 
of  your  nasty  tricks,  my  shoe  shall  teach  you  which  end 
belongs  up." 

She  looked  at  him  severely,  as  if  she  meant  it,  and  the 
boy  went  out,  appearing  as  if  he  were  regretting  she  didn't 
try  the  experiment,  kicking  over  the  dust  barrel  on  the 
sidewalk  in  his  effort  to  jump  over  it. 

.  XVI. 

"  IT  is  roominous  enough  in  here,"  said  Mrs.  Partington, 
as  she  hung  her  bandbox  and  umbrella  upon  the  side  of 
the  car  on  the  Eastern  Railroad,  and  took  her  seat.  "  I 
declare,  I  am  very  lucky  to  get  so  good  a  seat,  when  the 
cars  are  so  crowded  by  execrationists  going  to  the  moun 
tains  or  the  sea-shore.  It  is  quite  ill-convenient  to  travel 
at  such  times ;  but  with  an  agreeable  company,  and  a  nice 
car  like  this,  it  is  very  pleasant." 

"  This  is  not  an  ice  car,  madam,"  replied  the  gentleman 
to  whom  she  addressed  her  remark. 

"  Well,  I  must  say  that  tobacco  smoke  is  not  so  nice  as 
it  might  be,  and  I  don't  think 'people  behave  themselves 
altogether  so  well  as  they  might  who  smoke  where  there 
is  ladies ;  but  we  must  take  folks  as  we  find  ;em." 

"  Have  a  cigar,  madam  ?  "  said  her  acquaintance. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  she  replied,  astonished  at  his  audacity, 
as  she  saw  him  rub  a  match,  and  light  his  weed. 


166  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Go  it  alone  !  "  said  a  voice  behind  her. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "  I'm  alone,"  thinking  herself  addressed. 

She  looked  round  to  see  a  game  of  euchre  progressing. 
As  Batchelder,  the  conductor,  entered,  he  saw  the  black 
bonnet  and  the  kind  eyes,  and  whispered  in  her  ear,  "  You 
are  in  the  smoking-car ; "  whereupon  she  went  out,  and 
found  her  sphere  in  the  next  car. 


XVII. 

MRS.  PARTINGTON,  speaking  of  the  over-activity  of  Ike 
in  mischief,  says  it  proceeds  "  from  the  axis  of  fidelity  in 
his  system."  Heaven  bless  the  boy,  then,  Mrs.  P.,  and  if 
he  has  excess  of  "  fidelity  "  in  his  system,  do  not  try  to 
reduce  it ;  for  there  are  so  few  who  are  troubled  with  fidel 
ity  in  any  form  that  one  so  gifted  is  a  rara  avis.  She 
meant  "  excess  of  vitality."  Her  rhetoric  is  far  ahead  of 
her  grammar. 


XVIII. 

"  ARRANGED  for  selling  liquor ! "  said  Mrs.  Partington, 
the  morning  after  the  arraignment  in  court  of  the  dealers 
for  sentence.  "  That's  the  place  for  doing  things  right, 
and  I  have  always  noticed  that  everybody  there  is  ar 
ranged  for  what  he  does.  How  many  there  are  arranged 
for  drunkenness,  with  large  swallows,  I  suppose,  every 
Monday  in  the  court ;  and  goodness  knows  where  they  get 
their  liquor,  unless  they  are  arranged  for  that,  too,  or 
somebody  arranges  it  for  'em,  which  is  impossible,  be 
cause  nobody  has  any  to  sell,  I  know,  for  I  wanted  some 
gin  to  put  into  camphire  for  a  vortex  in  my  head,  and  the 
stationary  agent  wanted  my  name,  and  where  I  was  born, 


OKACULAR  PEAELS.  167 

and  the  color  of  my  grandmother's  eyes,  and  I  couldn't 
tell  him,  and  so  he  wouldn't  let  me  have  it ;  and  there  is 
sich  doings !  I  suppose  I  am  arranged  to  go  without,  and 
I  guess  I  can." 

She  looked  rigidly  at  the  profile  of  the  corporal  of  the 
Bloody  'Leventh  that  hung  upon  the  wall,  and  thought  of 
the  sacrifices  he  had  made  to  secure  liberty,  —  rum  in 
cluded,  —  and  she  rammed  a  pinch  of  snuff  home  like  a 
cartridge,  while  Ike,  taking  a  broomstick,  charged  upon 
the  stove-pipe  with  a  spite  that  brought  it  down,  and  re 
stored  Mrs.  Partington  to  her  consciousness,  who  pursued 
the  boy  with  her  shoe  as  he  darted  out  of  the  door. 


XIX. 

i 

"  WHAT  a  large  family  of  daughters  he  must  have  ! " 
said  Mrs.  Partington,  as  she  read  in  the  papers  an  account 
of  a  marriage  at  the  residence  of  the  bride's  father.  "  I 
never  read  a  paper  that  I  don't  see  one  of  his  daughters  is 
married  at  the  old  gentleman's  house.  I'm  shore  I  hope 
they  may  turn  out  well,  for,  though  it  is  very  desirous  that 
so  many  girls  should  be  married  off,  and  become  the  heads 
of  families,  if  Heaven  should  so  order  it,  though  it  doesn't 
seem  to  nowadays,  yet  it  is  very  essensual  that  they  should 
be  well  to  do,  too,  and  have  something  to  begin  life  with. 
There-  is  a  perfect  manammonia  among  girls  to  get  mar 
ried;  but  they  marry  in  haste  to  repent  at  leisure,  and 
Heaven  knows  what  an  end  may  be  that  begins  so  badly ! 
I  hope  the  bride's  father  may  have  done  his  duty  by  pos 
terity,  as  well  as  he  has  for  it,  —  and  Solomon  himself 
couldn't  have  done  more,  —  for  half  that  marry  nowadays 
are  no  more  fit  for  it  than  they  are  for  preachers,  and,  in 
stead  of  being  helpmeets  to  their  husbands,  they  are  more 


168  PARTINGTONIAX   PATCHWORK. 

likely  to  help  part,  sometimes  '  before  the  honeymoon  is 
over.  May  Heaven  bless  us  all,  for  we  ar&  none  of  us  bet 
ter  than  we  ought  to  be,  by  a  great  deal." 

Ike  sat  with  a  long  string,  and  a  piece  of  meat  attached, 
angling  for  the  cat. 

XX. 

"I'VE  always  noticed,"  said  Mrs.  Partington  on  New 
Year's  Day,  dropping  her  voice  to  the  key  that  people 
adopt  when  they  are  disposed  to  be  philosophical  or  moral ; 
".I've  always  noticed  that  every  year  added  to  a  man's  life 
is  apt  to  make  him  older,  just  as  a  man  who  goes  a  journey 
finds,  as  he  jogs  on,  that  every  mile  he  goes  brings  him 
nearer  where  he  is  going,  and  farther  from  where  he  start 
ed.  I  am  not  so  young  as  I  was  once,  and  I  don't  believe 
I  shall  ever  be,  if  I  live  to  the  age  of  Samson,  which, 
Heaven  knows  as  well  as  I  do,  I  don't  want  to,  for  I 
wouldn't  be  a  centurian  or  an  octagon,  and  survive  my  fac 
tories,  and  become  idiomatic,  by  any  means.  But  then 
there  is  no  knowing  how.  a  thing  will  turn  out  till  it  takes 
place ;  and  we  shall  come  to  an  end  some  day,  though  we 
may  never  live  to  see  it." 

There  was  a  smart  tap  on  the  looking-glass  that  hung 
upon  the  wall,  followed  instantly  by  another. 

"  Gracious  !  "  said  she  ;  "  what's  that  ?  I  hope  the  glass 
isn't  fractioned,  for  it  is  a  sure  sign  of  calamity,  and  mercy 
knows  they  come  along  full  fast  enough  without  helping 
'em  by  breaking  looking-glasses." 

There  was  another  tap,  and  she  caught  sight  of  a  white 
bean  that  fell  on  the  floor;  and  there,  reflected  in  the 
glass,  was  the  face  of  Ike,  who  was  blowing  beans  at  the 
mirror  through  a  crack  in  the  door. 


OKACULAR  PEARLS.  169 


XXI. 

•  "  As  for  the  Chinese  question,"  said  Mrs  Partington,  re 
flectively,  holding  her  spoon  at  "  present,"  while  the  vapor 
of  her  cup  of  tea  curled  about  her  face,  which  shone  through 
it  like  the  moon  through  a  mist,  "  it  is  a  great  pity  that 
somebody  don't  answer  it,  though  who  under  the  canister 
of  heaven  c*an  do  it,  with  sich  letters  as  they  have  on  their 
tea-chists,  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  It  is  really  too  bad, 
though,  that  some  lingister  doesn't  try  it,  and  not  have 
this  provoking  question  asked  all  the  time,  as  if  we  were 
ignoramuses,  and  did  not  know  Toolong  from  No  Strong, 
and  there  never  was  sich  a  thing  as  the  seventh  command 
ment,  which,  Heaven  knows,  suits  this  case  to  a  T,  and  I 
hope  the  breakers  of  it  may  escape,  but  I  don't  see  how 
they  can.  The  question  must  be  answered,  unless  it  is  like 
a  cannondrum,  to  be  given  up,  which  nobody  of  any  spirit 
should  do." 

She  brought  the  spoon  down  into  the  cup,  and  looked 
out  through  the  windows  of  her  soul  into  celestial  fields, 
peopled  with  pig-tails,  that  were  all  in  her  eye,  while  Ike 
took  a  double  charge  of  sugar  for  his  tea,  and  gave  an 
extra  allowance  of  milk  to  the  kitten. 


XXII. 

TRAMP,  tramp,  tramp  !  Footsteps  were  heard  along  the 
passage-way  leading  from  the  gate  to  Mrs.  Partington's 
back  kitchen,  ceasing  at  the  word,  "  Halt !  Dress  !  Shoul 
der  arms  !  Support  arms !  Carry  arms !  Charge  bayonets ! 
March  ! "  said  a  voice,  in  a  rapid  succession  of  orders. 

Mrs.  Partington  opened  the  door  at  the  word  march,  as  Ike 
15 


170  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCH WOKK. 

charged  through  with  a  wooden  gun,  made  of  half  a  clothes- 
pole  that  he  had  taken  for  the  purpose,  and  found  herself 
"  falling  back"  hefore  the  furious  assault,  not  stopping  till  her 
main  body  lighted  under  the  table,  her  right  wing  resting  in 
a  saucer  of  milk  put  there  for  the  cat,  and  her  left  much  de 
moralized  by  a  flank  blow  from  the  leg  of  the  table.  She 
scrambled  to  her  feet.  Ike  withdrew  his  force  towards  the 
door.  There  was  a  flush  upon  her  cheek,  and  anger  in  her 
eye,  as  she  brought  her  forefinger  up  to  "  present ;  "  for 
what  elderly  lady  of  propriety  and  some  fat  would  like  to 
be  knocked  under  a  table  by  a  mischievous  boy,  even  to 
illustrate  military  science  ? 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  doing  this,  you  bad  boy  ?"  said 
she,  as  she  found  her  tongue.  "  Do  you  think  you  are  a 
squirmish,  that  you  attack  a  body  in  that  way  ?  I'll  let 
you  know  better,  sir,  when  you  go  to  bed.  Dear  me,  how 
you  have  decomposed  me !  I  come  nigh  knocking  my 
brains  out." 

Seeing  that  she  had  not  struck  her  head,  it  was  wonder 
ful  how  this  could  be ;  but  it  was  to  be  pardoned  to  the 
excitement  of  the  moment.  Ike  stood  good-naturedly  at 
"  shoulder,"  and  then  remarked  that  he  was  only  going 
through  the  manual. 

"And  what  has  a  boy  to  do  with  the  man-ual,  I'd  like  to 
know  ? "  asked  the  old  lady,  severely.  ftt  You'd  better  be 
a  recruet,  and  done  with  it,  and  go  to  Pamunky  Creek,  if 
you  want  to  cut  up  sich  monkey  shines." 

"Ilight  about,  face!  March!"  said  Ike,  wheeling  to 
wards  the  door. 

"Stop!"  said  Mrs.  Partingtonj  but  Ike  .Jiept  on. 
"  Stop  !  "  she  repeated ;  but  he  did  mot  mind.  Then  her 
spirit  was  aroused,  and  charging  after  the  withdrawing 
force,  she  seized  him  by  the  arm.  "  Why  don't  you  stop  ?  " 
she  cried.  » 


OBACULAK  PEABLS.  171 

"  The  command  wasn't  right,"  said  Ike  ;  "  it  should  have 
been  'halt.'" 

"I'll  make  you  "halt !  "  said  she,  taking  off  her  shoe  in 
anticipation  of  the  sentence  of  a  drum-head  court-martial. 
But,  as  she  raised  the  shoe,  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
profile  of  the  Artillery  Corporal  on  the  wall  in  military 
rigidity,  gazing  out  on  nothing,  the  sword-  above  it  that 
had  flashed  over  'the  Beanville  muster-field  in  the  Bloody 
'Leventh,  and  her  eye  moistened  with  a  new  emotion. 
Gone  was  her  anger,  gone  the  excitement,  and  gone  was 
Ike,  who  ran  out  the  back  door,  and  leaped  the  picket. 


XXIII. 

one  is  exasperated  with  fatigue,"  said  Mrs.  Par- 
tington,  with  the  ex  cathedra  touch  emphasized  by  the  sus 
pended  silver  spoon,  "  there  is  nothing  that  has  a  more  ac 
celerating  effect  than  a  good  strong  cup  of  Oblong  tea. 
Besides,  there  is  nothing  harmonious  in  it  that  will  hurt 
any  one,  and  none  of  the  innovation  that  one  feels  who 
drinks  Japan,  and  keeps  jumping  up  and  down  all  night, 
like  a  possessed  critter,  with  no  going  to  sleep  till  morn 
ing,  and  worn  out  next  day  so  that  he  can't  work,  and 
has  to  take  whiskey  to  steady  his  nerves,  which  is  an 
abomination.  There's  a  great  difference  in  tea,  and,  though 
some  fancies  this  and  some  that,  I  shall  always  think  the 
Oblong  is  best." 

She  here  ran  down,  like  a  Connecticut  wooden  clock, 
the  spoon  still  pendent,  the  steam  from  her  cup  rising  in  a 
cloud  of  fragrant  whiteness,  through  which  her  spectacles 
gleamed  like  stars  ;  and  Ike  sat  with  his  elbows  on  the  ta 
ble,  and  his  chin  resting  on  his  hands,  like  a  horse-car 
driver,  waiting  for  her  to  turn  out. 


172  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


XXIV. 

"  ARE  those  the  Duchess  Dangleworm's  pears  ? "  said 
Mrs.  Partington,  as  she  stopped  at  the  street  corner,  and 
"  hefted  "  one  of  a  number  marked  "  12  cents." 

"No,  ma'am,"  was  the  reply  j  "  them's  Easter  Beurres." 

"  Well,"  replied  she,  "  I  hope  Esther  will  find  somebody 
to  buy  7em  at  that  price  ;  but  I  think  it  is  doubtful,  they  are 
so  very  high." 

"  Yes'm,"  replied  the  vender ;  "they  was  raised  on  very 
high  trees." 

"  Ah,  thank  you,"  said  she.  "  I  declare,  it  is  good  as 
going  to  an  intelligence  orifice  to  meet  with  such  a  one  as 
yourself.  You  ought  not  to  dispense  with  your  wisdom  so 
liberally,  because  by  and  by  it  may  give  out." 

She  turned  to  go  away,  but  felt  that  her  reticule  was 
heavier  than  it  was,  and  found  that  some  one  had  put  a 
large  pear  in  it,  a  gift,  she  deemed,  from  the  fruit-vender ; 
but  Ike  walked  by  her  side  demurely,  and  she  could  not 
see  under  his  cap-visor  the  fun  that  was  there.  He 
could  tell  how  it  came  there. 


XXV. 

"  MRS.  PARTINGTON  et  als  !  "  said  Mrs.  P.,  as  Ike  read 
an  eulogistic  notice  of  herself  and  retinue  thus  headed. 
"  Is  that  so,  Isaac  ?  " 

"  'Tain't  nothing  else,"  replied  he,  thrusting  the  cat's  head 
through  the  paper,  which  served  as  an  elaborated  choker. 

"  Et  als  ! "  mused  she.  "  I  never  ate  als  in  my  life  that 
I  know  of,  though  there  is  so  many  dishes  with  new  names 
that  one  might  forget  ;em  all,  unless  he  is  an  epicac." 


ORACULAR  PEARLS.  173 

She  turned  every  thing  in  her  mind  to  remember  what 
she  had  eaten, — her  mind  an  oven  full  of  turnovers, — 
but  it  refused  to  come  to  her ;  and  she  made  a  memoran 
dum  by  tying  a  knot  in  her  handkerchief,  to  call  on  the 
editor,  and  find  out  about  it.  Ike  sat  upon  the  leaf  of  the 
extension-table,  swinging  his  feet  beneath  it,  trying  to 
make  a  tune  out  of  the  creak. 


XXVI. 

"  A  SERIOUS  RIOT  ! "  said  Mrs.  Partington,  as  her  eye 
rested  on  such  title  to  a  paragraph  in  a  paper.  "  I  won 
der  if  it  was  any  thing  like  the  riot  in  church,  where  the 
two  ministers  tried  to  read  the  lethargy  in  the  same  pulpit 
at  the  same  time,  and  one  of  'em  got  his  surplus  torn  off 
by  one  of  the  deacons.  It  is  too  bad  for  serious  people  to 
do  such  things  ;  but  it  shows  how  liable  we  are  to  get  led 
into  deficiency." 

"  The  serious  part  of  it,"  said  Dr.  Spooner,  straightening 
himself  up  like  a  rake-handle,  "I  suspect,  is  in  the  magni 
tude  of  the  act,  rather  than  in  the  seriousness  of  the 
actors," 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  she ;  "  but  I  have  known  the  most 
serious  people  do  as  bad  as  others,  going  about  with  the 
cloak  of  hypocrisy  in  their  mouths,  and  pretending  they 
were  saints.  There  are  very  few  we  can  trust,  and  who 
we  can  put  confidence  into  is  a  question." 

Dr.  Spooner  was  silent,  and  Isaac,  who  was  mending  a 
slate-strap  with  a  fork,  cried  out,  loudly,  "  Bother  !  "  as  the 
fork  went  into  his  finger.  This  was  a  diversion,  though  it 
was  not  very  diverting  to  the  boy,  and  the  riot  was  for 
gotten. 

15* 


174  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


XXVII. 

"  HAVE  you  seena  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Partington  of  the 
apothecary. 

"  Seen  whom  ?  "  said  he,  smiling,  as  he  recognized  the 
dame. 

"Why,  seena,  to  be  sure,"  emphasizing  the  word, 
"Seena!" 

"  I  have  not,  my  dear  madam,  the  least  idea  of  whom 
you  are  inquiring ;  hut  I  have  seen  no  one  whose  presence 
has  given  me  greater  pleasure  than  your  own." 

"  Well,  certainly,"  she  said,  "  that's  very  kind  of  you ; 
but  I  want  to  know  if  you  have  seena  f  " 

"Madam,  I  assure  you,"  replied  he,  despairingly,  "th.it 
I  do  not  know  whom  you  mean.  I  have  seen  hundreds, 
thousands,  multitudes,  but  have  not  seen  her,  among  them 
all,  that  I  know  of." 

"  But  you  have  manners  ?  "  said  she  ;  "  and  they  go  to 
gether." 

"  What,  in  Heaven's  name  ?  "  he  almost  shrieked,  start 
ing  the  old  lady  into  looking  at  him  anxiously  through  her 
"  parabolical  "  spectacles,  and  drawing  Ike  away  from  an  at 
tempt  to  carom  three  soap-balls  on  the  counter,  to  the  great 
amusement  of  the  cat.  , 

"Why,  seena  and  manners,"  replied  she,  calmly,  "for  a 
gentle  purgatory." 

"Oh,  senna  and  manna !"  he  repeated  sotto  voce,  and 
procured  it  for  her.  She  went  out  as  gacefully  as  a  sev 
enty-four,  and  soon  was  hull  down  in  the  distance. 


'  ' "  - 


MRS.    PARTINGTON   AND   THE   APOTHECARY.  -  Page  174. 


NEW  AND  OLD  THINGS 

FEOM  MY  INKSTAND. 


LES  MISERABLES. 

A   LONG  WAY   AFTER  VICTOR    HUGO. 

I. 
JEAN  VALJEAN. 

JEAN  VALJEAN 
A  convict  had  been  — 
For  nineteen  years  no  freedom  had  known. 
When  from  Toulon  released, 
He  was  feared  as  a  beast, 

And  hooted  and  hounded  from  country  to  town. 
The  fourth  day,  near 
To  Pontarlier, 
The  place  of  his  destination, 
He  was  hungered  and  sore, 
But  men  shut  their  door, 
Nor  pitied  his  desolation. 
Even  the  dogs  their  kennels  refused 
To  one  so  vile  from  bondage  loosed, 
Till,  by  men  and  dogs  alike  abused, 
He  grew  savage  with  desperation. 

NOTE.  —  The  writer  leaves  the  pronunciation  of  certain  names  to 
the  reader's  option  j   "  he  pays  his  money  and  he  takes  his  choice." 

177 


178  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 

He  swore  to  himself  a  bitter  prayer, 
As  he  passed  on  through  Cathedral  Square, 
And  shook  his  fist  at  the  temple  there, 
As  though  he  thought  the  church  might  care ; 
But  it  frowned  in  the  dark  with  a  frigid  air, 
Nor  heeded  his  demonstration. 
With  failing  strength 
He  fell,  at  length, 
By  a  very  strange  fatality, 
At  a  printer's  door, 
The  wrhole  world  o'er 
The  hiding-place,  on  every  shore, 
Of  wisdom  and  morality. 

Not  a  single  crumb  had  he  to  eat  — 

He  couldn't  buy  of  bread  or  meat, 

For  the  shops  were  shut  along  the  street, 
And  he  fain  would  sleep, 
In  its  silence  deep, 

Forgetting  his  stinted  rations  ; 

When  a  woman,  —  'tis  always  thus  I  think, 
That,  just  as  we're  going  to  take  a  wink, 
And  our  eyelids  peacefully  'gin  to  sink, 
The  woman  makes  our  tempers  kink 

With  sharp  interrogations,  — 

A  woman  saw  his  sorry  plight, 

Asleep  in  the  street  on  a  stone  by  night, 

A  singular  couch  for  one  not  tight ; 

So  she  spoke  to  him  as  a  Christian  might, 

And  then  he  surlily  told  her 

That  he  was  a  soldier  in  distress  — 
A  claim  that  always  its  way  must  press ; 
We  every  day  its  power  confess, 
And  do  our  best  to  aid  and  bless, 

And  never  turn  cold  shoulder. 


JEAN  VALJEAN.  179 

She  heard  and  pitied  the  worthless  scamp. 
He  swore  he  hadn't  a  postage  stamp, 
Had  sought  each  door  on  a  bootless  tramp. 
She  said  he  mustn't  lie  in  the  damp, 

A  victim  of  Fortune's  malice, 
But  gave  him  twopence,  and  bade  him  go 
To  a  house  a  block  along  or  so, 

Next  door  to  the  Bishop's  palace. 

Now  the  Bishop  was  of  men  the  best, 
In  whom  the  country  round  was  blest ; 
A  model  man,  whose  every  thought 
With  good  of  his  fellow-men  was  fraught. 
His  soul  reflected  the  beaming  love 
That  streams  direct  from  the  throne  above ; 
His  constant  wish  to  do  for  others, 
And  held  the  good  and  bad  as  brothers ; 
He  acted  without  regard  of  self  — 
Gave  up  all  thought  of  rank  or  pelf, 

And  did  his  Master's  duty ; 
The  poor  and  needy  ones  he  fed, 
The  languid  and  the  erring  led, 
The  strong  upon  their  way  were  sped, 
The  hearts  were  soothed  that  joy  had  fled, 
And  his  tears  upon  the  sorrowing  shed 

Sprang  up  in  shapes  of  beauty. 

With  the  insolent  airs  of  a  surly  boor, 
The  loafer  opened  the  Bishop's  door  j 
I  dare  say  left  his  mud  on  the  floor, 
To  the  great  disgust  of  Madame  Magloire, 
Leaned  on  his  stick  the  priest  before, 

And  told  him  all  his  story  : 
Jean  Valjean  was  the  name  he  gave, 


180  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

For  nineteen  years  a  galley  slave  ; 

The  while  he'4.  managed  a  trifle  to  save, 

Was  able  to  pay  for  what  he  might  crave, 

Wherein  he  seemed  to  glory. 
The  Bishop  turned  to  Madame  Magloire, 
Who  had  placed  for  three  at  table  before, 
And  bade  her  provide  for  one  guest  more ; 

At  which  Jean  was  astonished. 
He  read  to  them  his  yellow  pass, 
A  record  of  fearful  crime,  alas ! 
Of  all  he  had  done  the  world  to  harass  — 
A  hopeless  case  for  prayer  or  mass ; 
He  asked  for  bread  and  a  bed  of  grass, 
Nor  longer  hoped  with  men  to  class ; 

But  vain  was  the  Bishop  admonished. 
Without  opening  to  Jean  his  head 
He  bade  Magloire  put  sheets  on  the  bed 
In  the  alcove  —  then  to  the  convict  said, 

Sit  down,  sir,  by  the  fire. 
The  man,  surprised  and  wild  to  hear 
A  word  of  human  love  and  cheer, 
Felt,  as  might  be  supposed,  quite  queer, 
And  odd  enough  in  his  way  did  appear, 

But  complied  with  the  Bishop's  desire. 

The  table  was  set, 
And  round  it  all  met, 
Jean  Valjean  on  the  Bishop's  right. 
The  silver  forks  and  spoons  of  state 
Were  put  in  honor  beside  each  plate, 

When  the  Bishop  complained  of  the  light. 
"  The  silver  candlesticks  !  "  he  cried. 
'Twas  a  matter  with  him  of  a  little  pride 
To  have  them  lit  with  a  guest  by  his  side  j 


JEAN  VALJEAN.  181 

And  Madame  Magloire, 
As  she'd  done  before, 
Obeyed  him  she'd  never  in  thought  denied. 

JTwas  a  goodly  feast  you  may  be  bound  j 
Magloire  a  bottle  of  wine  had  found, 
And  care  in  a  little  while  was  drowned, 

And  the  convict  was  in  a  bother. 
Again  he  told  the  Bishop  his  name ; 
But  the  Bishop  said  it  was  all  the  same, 
He  felt  his  sorrow  and  his  shame, 
He  knew  his  title  ere  he  came, 

And  that  he  told  him  was  "  BROTHER." 

Then  Jean  Valjean  went  to  bed ; 

But  wicked  thoughts  spun  through  his  head, 

The  good,  and  pure,  and  holy  instead. 

At  midnight  he  arose  from  sleep, 

And  round  the  house  like  a  cat  did  creep, 

Doing  such  perfidious  works  — 

Stealing  the  spoons  and  stealing  the  forks, 

Then  leaped  the  window  and  garden  gate, 

And  left  the  Bishop  minus  his  plate !  * 

A  wicked  wretch,  but  such  must  be 

From  taking  felons  and  like  to  tea ! 

So  thought  Madame  Magloire 

And  many  more, 

But  the  Bishop  smiled  more  glad  than  before. 
They  had  taken  his  forks,  but  he  said  'twas  as  good 
To  use  spoons  and  forks  that  were  made  of  wood. 

Jean  Valjean  was  speedily  caught, 
And  into  the  Bishop's  presence  brought 
By  three  gensdarmes — they  had  him,  they  thought ; 
IS 


182  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

But  the  Bishop  pretended  he'd  given  the  plate, 
And  told  him  he  needn't  have  leaped  the  gate, 
And  wondered  by  what  strange  absence  of  mind 
He'd  left  his  candlesticks  behind. 

Jean  Valjean  here  opened  his  eyes 
In  a  wild  and  undisguised  surprise. 

Then  the  Bishop  spoke.     "  My  brother,"  said  he, 
"  You're  no  more  for  evil,  but  good,  you  see. 
I've  bought  your  soul  of  you,  and  withdraw 
It  from  the  imp  of  perdition's  claw, 
To  lift  it  from  the  ills  of  the  sod, 
And  give  it  to  the  keeping  of  God." 

A  strange,  strange  trade, 
As  ever  was  made ;  « 

But,  reader,  if  you'd  find  the  key 
To  open  up  this  mystery, 

I'd  say,  do  go 

To  Lee  and  Shepard's,  or  where  you  please, 
And  hire  or  borrow,  and  read  at  your  ease, 

The  book  by  Victor  Hugo. 


II. 

FANTINE. 

Ne'er  did  monarch  array  his  queen 
Eicher  than  Hugo  did  Fantine, 

With  pearls  of  gold 

More  manifold 

Than  she  of  Egypt  wore  of  old— 


FANTINE.  183 

More  regal  than  those  of  the  "  Queen  of  the  South/' 
The  gold  on  her  head,  the  pearls  in  her  mouth. 
Oh  !  she  was  fair  as  nymph  or  fay, 
And  she  was  sweet  as  flowers  in  May, 
And  she  was  as  lithe,  as  a  breeze  at  play, 
And  she  was  as  mild  as  a  summer  day. 
She  was  all  alone  — 
No  parents  had  known, 
A  waif  on  the  world  for  charity  thrown ; 
A  sad,  sad  doom, 
For  beauty  and  bloom  — 
Immortal  seed  on  a  soil  of  stone ; 
The  fruit  of  love's  unhallowed  chrism, 
Denied  the  right  of  blest  baptism, 

Left  to  shame  and  human  blame, 
That  follows  the  fallen  like  breath  of  flame, 
Called  Fantine 
By  herself —  Fantine  — 
Simply  because  it  was  her  name. 

She  knew  none  else ;  'twas  at  her  cast, 

Like  a  bone  to  a  dog,  by  a  beggar  who  passed  — 

'Twas  Fantine  only,  first  and  last. 

And  Fantine  loved ; 

Her  heart  was  moved 

With  a  love  more  ardent  than  approved  j 
"  But  still  it  was  a  love  as  true 

As  e'er  in  human  bosom  grew, 

Fed  by  Hymen's  sacred  dew, 

And  i>lest  in  sacerdotal  view  ; 

For  love  is  the  same  in  poor  and  rich, 

Working  them  up  to  the  self-same  pitch, 
And  don't  distinguish  "  t'other  from  which." 
She  loved,  with  all  her  little  powers 


184  PAETIXGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

—  Hungry  love  that  the  heart  devours  — 
A  man  of  wit  and  ready  tin, 
But  soiled  "by  the  world  and  touch  of  sin, 
With  carious  teeth  and  a  wrinkled  skin, 
And  bad  digestion  — how  could  he  win? 
His  eyes  were  watery,  too,  and  dim, 
But  she  saw  no  blemish  at  all  in  him : 

So  true  to  him 

She  flew  to  him, 

And  stuck  like  Hilton's  glue  to  him ! 
But  he,  the  churl,  Fin  sorry  to  say, 
Didn't  love  her  in  that  same  way. 
His  was  a  passion  —  a  baleful  flame, 
That  kindles  in  fervor  and  ends  in  shame ; 
A  blaze  that  burns  with  a  lurid  light, 
Then  leaves  a  darkness,  as  black  as  night, 
Of  broken  heart  and  spirit  blight  j 

And  poor  Fantine, 

With  anguish  keen, 
Pelt  cold  desertion's  direst  harms : 

Her  first  love  flown  — 

Alone  —  alone  — 
Bearing  her  woe  in  heart  —  and  arms. 

In  heaven  above  or  earth  below 
A  purer  love  none  e'er  may  know,- 
Than  in  the  mother's  breast  doth  glow  j 
Irrespective  of  sin  or  shame, 
Glorying  still  in  the  mother's  name, 
Nature  asserting  its 'holy  claim, 
In  fortune's  light, 
In  poverty's  blight, 
In  sorrow's  night, 
It  burns  forever  and  burns  the  same ; 


FANTINE.  185 

And  sweet  Fantine 
Loved  her  poor  wean 
As  'twere  a  child  of  loftier  fame. 

On  a  dusty  day 

O'er  a  public  way 
Was  Fantine  and  her  child  astray, 
Weary  and  sad,  and  most  forlorn, 
Bound  for  the  town  where  she  was  born, 
Hoping  an  honest  living  to  win, 
Outside  the  vortex  of  deadly  sin, 
When  she  arrived  at  a  wayside  inn. 

?Twas  a  queer,  old  nook, 

With  forbidding  look ; 
But  there  before  it,  in  a  swing, 
Two  children,  bright  as  flowers  in  spring, 

Rocked  to  and  fro, 

While,  soft  and  low, 
The  mother  a  gentle  air  did  sing ; 

And  Fantine  felt 

Her  motherly  heart  within  her  melt, 
As  she  looked  upon  the  beautiful  thing. 
The  mothers,  with  a  motherly  pride, 
Put  their  children  side  by  side, 

And  poor  Fantine, 

As  she  viewed  the  scene, 
Thought  of  her  fatherless  babe,  and  cried. 
"  What  will  Mrs.  Grundy  say  ?  " 
She  said  to  herself,  in  a  tearful  way ; 
For  she  dreaded  the  folk  of  M.  sur  M., 
And  dreaded  the  lies  she  must  tell  to  them. 
So  she  gave  up  all  of  her  little  hoard, 
And  a  promise  of  more  than  she  could  afford, 
In  payment  for  the  baby's  board ; 
16* 


186  TARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

Then  witli  a  htart  of  grief  and  pain, 
And  fulling  tears,  "like  summer  rain, 
"With  empty  pocket  and  giddy  brain, 
She  wandered  forth  on  her  walk  again, 
Leaving  lier  babe,  without  a  fear, 
With  Mr.  and. Mrs.  Thernardier, 
By  prudent  folk  considered  queer, 

Because  Fantine 

Must  surely  have  seen 
They  didn't  respectable  appear. 

M.  Madeleine 

Had  made  great  gain 

By  a  patient  he  had  chanced  obtain ; 

Godsend  to  those  of  M.  sur  M., 

An  El  Dorado  'twas  to  them. 

The  little  place 
Grew  up  apace, 
Under  his  grave  and  watchful  care, 

And  industry  grew, 

And  virtue,  too, 
And  Fantine  found  employment  there. 

Her  toil  beguiled 

By  thought  of  her  child, 
That  there  in  the  distance  lived  and  smiled. 
But  she  kept  her  story  within  her  breastf, 
And  none  her  weighty  secret  guessed. 

But  gossips  were  round,  — 

They  always  abound, 
Like  canker  worms,  to  curse  the  ground, 
As  clearly,  in  a  moral  way, 
As  the  worms  the  farmer's  hope  to-day, 
Filling  his  heart  with  dire  dismay,  — 
Gossips  who  saw  her  proper  life, 


FANTINE.  187 

Who  knew  not  were  she  maid  or  wife, 

And  whispered  this  and  whispered  that, 

In  hours  of  sly,  malicious  chat, 

Until,  alas  for  poor  Fantine  ! 

One  came  among  them  —  her  child  had  seen  I 

And  then  the  rout, 

The  virtuous  shout, 

To  think  that  she  had  been  found  out  I 
Then  were  the  arrows  of  hatred  hurled, 
And  poor  Fantine  was  thrown  on  the  world. 

Alas  for  her, 

Sweet  sufferer ! 

No  friends  to  call  on,  far  or  near ; 
And  how  could  she  pay  Thernardier  ? 
He  was  pressing  her  for  his  pay, 
Said  the  child  was  pining  away, 
Driving  her  crazed  with  fears  each  day ; 
Besides,  her  landlord  wanted  his  rent, 
But  she  had  expended  her  last  red  cent ; 

Had  even  sold 

The  precious  gold 
That  covered  her  head  to  raise  the  dimes, 

And  the  bright  pearls,  too, 

In  her  mouth  that  grew, 
But  not  at  premium  of  later  times. 

Dante  mentions  the  rapid  pace, 
And  the  easy  trip  to  a  certain  place, 
When  mortals  fall  from  a  state  of  grace  5 
'Twas  certainly  thus  in  Fantine's  case. 
It  makes  the  heart  of  the  virtuous  bleed 
The  record  of  her  shame  to  read  — 
Till  she  fell  in  the  hands  of  the  hard  Javerfc, 
And  was  brought  before  his  honor  the  mayor, 


188  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 

Wliose  face  she  spat  in  then  and  there  ! 

But  no  angry  glow 

Did  his  honor  show, 

Who  told  Javert  to  let  her  go. 
Then  she,  astounded,  heard  him  tell 
*    That  he  was  one  who  wished  her  well ; 
Hadn't  known  she  had  left  his  mill ; 
That  'twas  others  who  had  dealt  her  ill ; 

Then  had  her  conveyed, 

For  hospital  aid, 

Where  the  Sisters  their  heavenly  mission  fill, 
Promising  hliss  in  store  for  her  yet 
In  union  sweet  with  her  little  Cosette. 

Sad,  ah,  sad,  was  the  closing  scene 
Of  the  little  life  of  poor  Fantine. 
Crushed,  and  broken,  and  poor,  and  ill,    • 
She  saw  her  measure  of  sorrow  fill ; 
Her  hope  deferred,  till  her  wasted  breath 
Became  as  one  with  the  airs  of  death, 
Then  sunk  to  rest,  and  never  met 
The  fond  embrace  of  her  dear  Cosette. 
Her  last  shocked  gaze,  with  her  closing  gasp, 

Showing  Jean  Valjean, 

Her  Madeleine, 
Held  like  a  vise  in  Javert's  grasp. 


MISSION  OF   A  E ABE-DONE   STEAK.  189 


MISSION   OF  A  RARE^DONE   STEAK. 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  cannibal  ?  "  said  the  red-faced 
man,  fiercely,  addressing  the  waiter,  who  had  put  a  steak 
before  him  that  from  its  rareness  might  have  awakened  a 
doubt  if  it  had  ever  felt  the  fire. 

"  No,  sir,  by  no  means ;  no,  sir,"  replied  the  waiter,  ob 
sequiously. 

"  Then  why  do  you  bring  me  raw  beef,  sir  ?  "  turning  it 
over  with  an  expression  of  intense  disgust. 

"  Your  order  was  '  rare  done,'  sir." 

"  Rare  doesn't  mean  raw.  This  is  raw.  It  roars,  sir  — 
it  roars." 

"  Very  well,  sir,  we  will  change  it,  and  have  one  done 
better  to  your  liking."  • 

{( See  to  it  then,  sir,  and  don't  keep  me  all  day  waiting ;  " 
and  the  red-faced  man  turned  to  a  companion  at  the  same 
.table,  with  the  remark,  "  Very  annoying,  sir." 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  the  one  addressed,  who,  having 
given  his  order,  was  balancing  the  bill  of  fare  on  his  fork ; 
"  but  I  consider  eating-houses  the  next ,  best  thing  to  a 
calamity  —  the  gout,  for  instance  —  for  the  trial  of  patience ; 
they  are  providential  dispensations,  so  to  speak,  and  those 
who  will  may  profit  by  them." 

"  Nuisances,  sir,  half  of  'em,"  said  the  red-faced  man ; 
"  pah  !  raw  beef." 

"  I  smiled  at  what  you  said  to  the  waiter  about  it,"  said 
the  believer  in  the  providential  character  of  eating-houses, 
still  balancing  the  bill  of  fare  on  his  fork,  and  varying  his 
performance  with  whirling  the  caster  round,  "because  it 
called  to  mind  something  that  occurred  to  some  acquaint- 


190  PARTESTGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

ances  of  mine  several  years  ago.  'Twas  the  strangest 
thing ! " 

He  looked  provokingly  mysterious,  and  the  red-faced 
man,  with  curiosity  plainly  visible,  said,  sharply,  "  What 
was  it  ?  " 

"Two  brothers,  who  had  been  apart  and  hostile  for 
years,  identifying  each  other,  and  becoming  reconciled 
through  an  under-done  beefsteak  !  Strange,  but  true,  'pon 
my  life." 

He  glanced  up  into  the  fierce  man's  face  as  he  concluded, 
and  saw  the  greatest  incredulity  depicted  there.  Indeed, 
his  mouth  was  just  puckering  into  a  whistle  ;  but  catching 
the  earnest  look  of  the  informant,  he  commuted  it  by  rap 
ping  on  the  table. 

"  I  have  heard  that  it  was  good  for  a  black  eye,"  said 
he,  at  length,  "  caused,  perhaps,  by  feelings  like  those 
named;  but  hang  me  if  ever  I  heard  any  use  so  strange  as 
that  to  put  it  to.  How  was  it  ?  " 

"  As  it  takes  some  time  to  cook  what  I  have  ordered," 
replied  the  philosopher,  "  perhaps  I  shall  be  able  to  tell 
you.  "Well,  you  see,  old  Farmer  Wilbur,  of  Branch  Creek, 
Vermont,  had  two  sons  —  only  sons  —  good,  likely  fellows, 
but  they  were  always  quarrelling.  Cats  and  dogs  weren't 
a  priming  to  them.  The  old  farmer  was  a  widower,  and 
they  and  their  quarrels  made  him  about  as  uncomfortable 
as  one  could  well  be.  At  last,  when  the 'oldest  boy  was 
about  sixteen,  after  a  terrible  fight  with  his  brother,  he 
ran  away;  and  soon  after,  the  old  man,  having  a  chance'to 
sell  his  farm  to  a  railway  company,  improved  it  to  good 
advantage,  and  moved  West,  where  he  became  swallowed 
up,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  for  nobody  knew  where  he 
had  gone;  'out  West,' in  some  unrememberable  locality, 
being  all  that  his  old  neighbors  knew  about  it.  '  Where's 
Farmer  Wilbur  ? '  strangers  would  sometimes  inquire  j 


MISSION  OF   A   KABE  DOME   STEAK  191 

'Gone  West/  was  the  reply.  <  Whereabouts  ?  '  < Don't 
remember.7  He  was  just  as  good  as  dead,  you  see  —  as 
though  he  had  heen  buried  for  a  centuiy.  Nobody  had 
heard  from  him  for  twenty  years,  nor  the  runaway  son. 
But  at  the  end  of  twenty  years  back  came  the  runaway 
son,  with  lots  of  money.  He  had  been  in  California,  and 
was  rich  as  a  Jew.  He  tried  every  way  to  find  out  what 
had  become  of  his  fafher  and  brother,  but  didn't  succeed  ; 
and  at  last,  as  the  next  best  thing  to  it,  he  bought  back  the 
old  homestead,  and  as  much  of  the  land  as  h3  could  save, 
married  one  of  the  pretty  villagers,  and  settled  down.  In 
buying  back  the  old  house,  he  restored  the  paint  to  its 
original  color,  for  Farmer  Wilbur's  taste  had  always  been 
peculiar.  The  house  was  red  with  white  trimmings,  the 
blinds  slate  color,  the  doors  yellow,  and  the  roof  blue  —  a 
very  peculiar  looking  house,  and  artists  travelling  in  the 
vicinity  have  been  known  to  go  five  miles  out  of  their  way 
to  avoid  seeing  it.  The  returned  wanderer,  out  of  respect 
to  his  father,  had  it  painted  exactly  as  he  remembered  it. 
It  was  his  custom  to  come  to  Boston  once  a  year  to  col 
lect  his  dividends  —  arriving  in  the  morning  and  going  back 
at  night.  I  got  quite  well  acquainted  with  him,  and  found 
him  to  be  an  interesting  and  good  fellow.  We  usually 
took  dinner  together  at  his  hotel  5  but  on  tho  occasion  of 
which  I  am  about  to  tell,  he  didn't  go  to  a  hotel,  and  we 
went  into  the  French  restaurant  up  here  for  a  lunch. 
While  we  were  there,  there  came  in  a  man  of  good  appear 
ance,  but  evidently  a  victim  of  misfortune.  There  was 
care  manifested  in  his  coat,  his  pants  looked  shiny  but 
well  preserved,  his  boots  were  patched,  but  they  had  lately 
been  blacked,  his  vest  was  a  relic,  and  his  hat  of  an  un 
certain  period.  He  was  seedy,  but  genteel  — poor,  but 
respectable.  His  face  was  strongly  marked  by  the  small 
pox,  and  it  was  apparent  from  the  way  in  which  he  half 


192  PAETINGTOXIAN  PATCHWOEK. 

closed  his  eyes,  as  he  looked  almost  timidly  around,  that 
his  vision  was  impaired.  'A  beefsteak/  said  he,  in  a  mod 
est  tone,  '  middling  well  done.'  The  waiter  gave  him  a 
supercilious  look,  passed  along  his  order,  and  turned  to  us 
as  mettle  more  attractive.  Our  order  was  'steak  rare 
done.'  The  stranger  took  the  unoccupied  seat  at  our 
table,  and  we  in  our  conversation  took  no  further  notice 
of  him.  By  and  by  he  had  a  plate  so*  before  him,  and  we 
were  again  attracted  towards  him  by  the  way  in  which  .he 
regarded  it ;  at  the  same  time  we  saw  that  it  was  as  raw  as 
the  most  desperate  beef-eater  could  desire.  He  took  an 
antique  looking  eye-glass  from  his  pocket,  and  scrutinized 
his  acquisition  with  much  earnestness ;  then,  leaning  back, 
he  sighed  deeply,  and  wiped  his  eyes  on  a  faded  blue  cot 
ton  handkerchief.  There  was  no  anger  on  his  face,  but  a 
spirit  of  deep  reflection  was  written  there,  and  bitter  sad 
ness.  After  a  while  a  smile  played  over  his  features,  and 
reaching  over  to  us  in  a  confidential  way,  he  said,  — 

"  '  You  may  be  surprised,  gentlemen,  at  my  conduct ; 
but  by  some  strange  craze  of  the  mind  I  am  led  to  associ 
ate  this  raw  beef  with  much  of  my  early  history.  The 
strangest  fancy  in  the  world,  and  I  can't  account  for  it. 
While  looking  at  that  beef  through  my  eye-glass,  gentle 
men,  the  first  fifteen  years  of  my  life  passed  before  me. 
I  saw  wide-reaching  meadows,  and  lowing  cattle,  and  run 
ning  brooks,  and  gentle  slopes,  and  a  red  house  with  a 
yellow  door,  slate-colored  blinds,  and  a  blue  roof,  that  I 
used  to  call  my  home.' 

"  '  What! '  cried  my  friend  Wilbur,  starting  to  his  foot, 
in  great  surprise  ;  'did  such  a  picture  as  that  present  itself 
to  you  ?  and  was  it  a  true  picture  ?  What  may  your  name 
be,  sir,  if  I  can  inquire  without  being  considered  im 
pertinent  ? ' 

"  ( Not  impertinent  at  all,  sir,  and  I  have  no  desire  to  con- 


MISSION   OF  A  HAKE-DONE   STEAK.  193 

ceal  a  name  that  has  never  had  crime  connected  with  it. 
My  name  is  Nathan  Wilbur — named  for  my  father,  a  good 
old  man,  who  owned  the  house  I  have  described.' 

"  I  saw  through  it  all  in  a  moment,  and  dreaded  lest  the 
old  animosity  should  awake  ;  but  it  was  buried  beneath  the 
years  that  had  passed,  and  looking  in  my  friend's  face,  I  saw 
tears  in  his  eyes. 

"  '  Is  the  old  man  yet  alive  ? '  he  said  to  the  stranger. 

"  '  No/  replied  he,  much  surprised  ;  '  it  broke  his  heart  to 
hear  that  my  brother  had  become  a  Mussulman,  and  had 
forsworn  his  religion,  my  father  being  a  strong  Methodist.7  - 

"  'Nathan  Wilbur,'  said  my  friend,  in  a  voice  of  deep 
emotion,  ( I  am  your  brother  Matthew.7 

"  I  may  as  well  cut  the  matter  short,"  said  the  philosoph 
ical  man  to  the  red-faced  one,  "  for  here  are  our  dinners 
coming.  JVTatthew  took  his  brother  home  with  him,  and 
they  lived  in  delightful  harmony.  Strange  story,  isn't  it, 
and  all  of  an  under-done  steak  ?  Where  would  you  be 
likely  to  hear  another  like  it,  but  in  an  eating-house? 
How  is  your  steak  cooked,  sir  ?  Well,  sir,  we  rail  against 
'em,  and  sometimes  it  is  right  we  should ;  but  after  all,  sir, 
they're  great  schools  for  us,  eating-houses  are ;  you  may 
depend  upon  that,  as  trials  of  patience,  encouragers  of 
hope,  and  strengtheners  of  faith,  — •  especially  this  last,  — 
there's  nothing  like  'em." 

The  red-faced  man  ate  his  steak  in  silence. 
17 


194  PAKTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

A  NEW  RAPE  OF  THE  LOCK. 

PART  I. 

SWEET  Madaline's  hair  was  very  fair, 
Of  ashen-gold  hue,  by  which  bards  swear, 

Whose  glorious  curls 

Were  the  envy  of  girls, 
Of  kink  divine  and  profusion  rare  j 

And  Madaline's  power, 

Evinced  each  hour, 
Rested,  like  Samson's,  in  her  hair. 

In  such  a  glory  it  round  her  lay  t 

Crinkled  in  Style's  adroitest  way, 

Burnt  with  irons  to  make  it  stay, 

—  With  amount  of  effort  .best  not  to  say  —     , 

Its  every  curl,  in  the  light  astray, 

Seeming  a  streak  from  the  source  of  day, 

Leading  the  rapt  beholder, 
Who  saw  it  about  her  neck  at  play, 
To  deem  it  some  amorous  sunbeam's  ray, 

Lit  on  her  snow-white  shoulder. 

Not  like  the  curls  we  sometimes  me6t 
Out  there  upon  the  public  street, 

To  good  taste  oft  offences, 
That  glisten  and  twist  admiration  to  gain, 
And  excite  the  susceptible  masculine  train, 
Till  they  find  at  last,  to  their  shame  and  pain, 
That  they're  fraud,  and  the  whole  of  their  object, 
plain  — 

Getting  goods  under  false  pretences. 


A  NEW  RAPE  OF  THE  LOCK.  195 

At  every  feast,  or  dance,  or  fair. 
In  the  burning  blaze  of  the  gas-light's  glare. 
Were  seen  those  locks  flash  here  and  there, 
Like  fireflies  in  the  summer  air, 

Enchanting  by  their  glitter ; 
Sought  for  by  eligible  beaux, 
Subject  for  rivalry  with  those 
Who  ached  to  tweak  each  other's  nose 

In  the  eager  race  to  get  her. 

And  her  smile  was  bright  as  the  curl  she  wore, 
And  equal  kindness  on  all  she'd  pour, 

And  each  fond  swain 

Perplexed  his  brain 

So  far  as  that  organ  might  obtain, 
As  he  watched  the  smile  her  features  o'er, 
If  for  him  it  any  promise  bore ; 

But  all  his  watch  was  vain. 


PAET  II. 

?Twas  in  the  glow  of  a  festal  night, 
The  social,  fires  all" burning  bright, 
The  gas  turned  on  to  its  utmost  height, 
Bathing  the  scene  in  its  fullest  light; 

Sweet  Madaline, 

The  pride  of  the  scene, 
The  cynosure  of  enraptured  sight 

To  many  a  would-be  lover, 
Sat  a,t  the  board  with  her  golden  hair 
In  affluent  ringlets  about  her  chair, 
Catching  the  whole  of  the  gas-light's  glare 
That  streamed  from  the  jet  above  her. 


196  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

Toasted,  and  flattered,  and  praised,  and  pressed, 

She  caught  each  word  with  a  fluttering  breast  j 

And  many  a  youthful,  manly  vest 

Swelled  at  her  beauty  manifest, 

And  pulsing  hearts,  'neath  the  glowing  test, 

The  potency  of  her  charms  confessed, 

With  rapturous  feeling  overblessed 

If  her  eyes  in  kiadness  wandered, 
And  her  golden  hair  a  wealth  possessed 
That  bosoms  filled  with  as  keen  unrest 
As  any  awaked  by  the  golden  west, 

In  auriferous  dreams  long  pondered. 

Around  her  chair 
Her  votaries  ther 
Hung  entranced  her  joy  to  share 

In  each  luxurious  minute ; 
Already  had  passed  the  season  of  cream, 
And  trifles  sweet  as  a  maiden's  dream, 
And  small  talk  ran  like  a  babbling  stream, 

When,  a  moment's  hush, 

A  push  and  a  rush, 
And  then  there  came  a  mellifluous  scream, 

Like  the  angry  note  of  a  linnet! 
"No  one  could  tell  the  reason  why, 
But  'twas  Madaline's  cry,  and  Madaline's  eye 
That  looked  around  on  the  standers-by 

With  the  fiercest  temper  in  it ! 

PART  III. 

u  On  with  the  dance  ! "  and  with  agile  feet, 
The  music  breathing  its  cadence  sweet, 
The  dancers  flitted  with  measure  meet, 


A  NEW  EAPE   OF   THE  LOCK.  197 

The  gay  hours  moving  on  pinions  fleet, 
With  saltatory  joy  replete, 

And  Madaline, 

Again  serene, 

Moved  in  the  throng  the  regnant  queen, 

The  blissful  scene  enhancing  ; 
There  were  polks  and  waltzes,  galops  and  reels, 
And  those  rare  movements  the  dancer  feels, 
Thrilling  all  through  from  head  to  heels, 
That  make  the  acme  of  dancing. 

Again,  "  Choose  partners  !  "  every  set 

In  just  accordancy  has  met 

For  the  gracefullest,  grandest  trial  yet ; 

There  are  twists  and  twirls, 

And  swirls  and  whirls, 

And  glowing  bright  are  Madaline's  curls 
On  the  happy  shoulder  of  George  Manett ! 
(Perhaps  that  wasn't  the  very  name, 
But  the  truth  of  the  tale  is  just  the  same.) 
About  they  go  in  the  mazy  dance  — 
Chassez  !     Balancez  !     Back  !     Advance ! 

When,  just  at  the  critical  turning, 
Fair  Madaline  seemed  struck  with  a  trance ; 
Her  feet  stood  still,  and  with  look  askance, 
Astonishment  in  her  countenance, 

Her  eyes  in  their  sockets  burning ! 

The  dancers  stopped  in  sore  dismay ; 

The  caller's  call  none  would  obey  ; 

And  there  they  stood  in  the  light's  full  ray, 

Looking  with  vacant  stare, 
Till  Madaline  her  finger  put  on 
Her  wondering  partner's  third  vest-button, 
17* 


198  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

Where,  gleaming  like  gold, 
Oh  his  waistcoat's  fold 

Was  a  lock  of  golden  hair  ! 

Like  the  fierce  wild  red  man  of  the  west, 

Swinging  a  scalp  as  his  valor's  test, 

So  Manett  wore  on  his  sturdy  breast 

A  lock  of  hers  he  loved  the  best, 

And  he  vowed  a  vow  that  none  of  the  rest 

Should  lift  a  hand  to  pick  it ; 
Though  how  it  came  there  he  didn't  know, 
But  Madaline  the  spot  could  show, 
Where  late  the  golden  curl  did  grow, 
That  was  torn  by  its  roots  from  its  soil  of  snow, 

In  the  midst  of  the  golden  thicket. 

And  that  was  the  secret  of  Madaline's  scream, 
Mingled  with  noise  of  spoons  in  the  cream, 
And  waking  the  "  spoons  "  from  their  little  dream, 
Coupled  with  glance  of  her  eyes'  fierce  gleam, 

That  carried  such  a  start  with  it; 
And  Manett  clings  to  his  beautiful  scalp 
As  firm  as  the  foot  of  an  amorous  Alp, 
Determined  never  to  part  with  it ; 

And  Madaline  she 

Don't  disagree, 
Seeing  he  has  his  heart  with  it. 


THE  NEW   RAPE  OF  A  LOCK.  —  Page  198. 


THE  VERIFICATION.  199 


THE  VERIFICATION. 

I  WAS  in  the  old  line  brig  Lively  Sally,  Captain  Knaggs, 
the  molasses  lugger  betwixt  Cienfuegos  and  Boston,  and 
was  on  my  way  home  full  of  the  joyful  anticipations  that 
a  sailor  indulges  in,  whose  whole  enjoyment  is  said  to  be 
in  the  fortnight  preceding  his  arrival  at  any  port,  which 
he  gives  to  pleasant  anticipations.  This  is  more  the  case 
now,  perhaps,  than  then,  because  in  the  days  of  which  I 
write,  the  sailor  had  a  home  and  friends,  now  denied  to 
the  poor  habitue  of  cheap  boarding-houses  in  the  purlieus 
of  big  cities,  exposed  to  the  temptations  without  and  the 
corruptions  within  that  tap  his  exchequer  to  the  last  far 
thing,  leaving  him  to  the  tender  mercies  of  a  villanous 
landlord.  The  illusion  is  soon  exhausted,  and  the  poor 
fellow  is  glad  to  get  to  sea  again,  to  recuperate  during  a 
long  voyage,  to  again  anticipate,  and  again  be  disappointed, 
till  dissipation  closes  the  drama,  and  "poor  Jack"  goes  under. 

We  had  a  very  good  crew  on  the  Lively  Sally,  and  there 
was  no  prettier^,  fellow  ever  walked  a  deck  than  Bob 
Small,  who  was  a  sailor  from  a  love  of  the  profession,  and 
who  had  run  away  from  his  home  in  New  Hampshire  three 
years  before,  from  which  he  had  not  heard  a  word  since, 
and  to  which  he  had  resolved  to  return  after  the  present 
voyage.  He  was  in  my  watch,  and  often,  under  the  lee 
of  the  longboat,  he  would  open  his  heart  to  me  regarding 
his  hopes  and  fears. 

We  were  one  night  walking  the  deck  in  the  moonlight, 
the  sea  just  moved  to  a  ripple  beneath  the  tropical  air, 
when  he  caught  my  arm  suddenly,  and  cried,  -*-~ 

"  Look  there  !  "    , 


200  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCH  WORK. 

"Where?  "I  asked. 

"There/'  said  he,  "in  the  wake  of  the  moon.  Don't  you 
see  ?  " 

There,  sure  enough,  swam  an  immense  shark,  just  above 
the  water,  within  a  boat's  length  of  us ;  and  we  felt  that 
his  evil  eye  rested  upon  us,  as  we  stood  there  gazing  at 
him.  I  felt  a  sense  of  uneasiness  as  I  saw  the  monster  so 
near  us,  and  was  sensible  of  a  violent  tremor  in  Bob,  as  his 
hand  rested  upon  my  arm. 

"  Jack,"  said  he,  impressively,  "  that  chap  is  after  me.  I 
can  read  my  fate  in  every  wrinkle  of  the  water  as  it  plays 
around  him,  and  I  know  very  well  that  he  will  be  my 
tomb." 

" Nonsense,"  I  said;  "what  is  the  use  of  indulging  in 
such  feeling  as  that?  It  is  no  unusual  thing  to  see  a 
shark ;  and  what  if  every  sailor  should  take  it  into  his 
head  that  he  was  to  be  eaten ;  do  you  think  he  would  be  ?  " 

At  that  the  monster  gave  a  great  swirl  in  the  water, 
and  the  ripples  flashed  in  the  moonbeams. 

"You  see  that,  Jack,"  said  he  ;  "he  knows  what  we  are 
talking  about,  and  it's  a  settled  thing.  His  mind  is  made 
up  to  have  a  pick  at  me,  and  he  will  do  it." 

"  Why  do  you  believe  so  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh  ! "  said  he,  "  I  have  been  too  happy.  These  joyful 
anticipations  of  seeing  home  again,  and  getting  the  for 
giveness  of  the  old  folks,  if  they  are  alive,  and  seeing  my 
little  sister  Myra,  have  filled  me  full.  Jack,"  he  continued, 
turning  me  round,  and  looking  me  squarely  in  the  face, 
"do  you  believe  that  a  man  who  disrespects  his  father  so 
much  as  to  shut  him  down  cellar  and  run  away,  has  a  right 
to  anticipate  happiness  ?  I  served  mine  so.  See  that 

shark ;  he  seems  to  be  laughing  at  what  I  say,  the  d 

beast,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expression." 

I  comforted  him  by  telling  him  that  if  he  had  served  the 


THE  VERIFICATION.  201 

old  man  no  worse  than  that,  there  was  ample  hope  for 
him,  and  that  I  had  known  a  young  man  who  had  pitched 
his  father  into  a  dry  well,  forty  feet  deep,  and  stolen  all 
the  old  gentleman's  tobacco  that  was  in  his  coat  pocket 
where  he  had  laid  it.  I  didn't  tell  him  though,  that  that 
same  young  man  had  afterwards  been  eaten  by  the  New 
Zealanders,  which  was  doubtless  a  visitation  for  the  of- 
"fence.  I  further  told  him  that  he  had  no  reason  for  his 
gloomy  fears,  arid  gently  hinted  that  he  was  a  consummate 
ass  for  borrowing  trouble;  but  he  mournfully  shook  his 
head.  The  calling  of  the  "  larboard  watch  "  interrupted 
our  conversation,  and  we  turned  in.  I  lay  awake  but  a 
little  while,  and  could  hear  Bob  sigh  deeply  as  he  lay  in 
his  berth. 

The  next  day  the  shark  was  not  visible  ;  but  night  found 
us  again  looking  over  the  lee  rail,  and,  as  before,  right  in 
the  wake  of  the  moon,  was  the  huge  fish  swimming  along 
with  his  fin  out  of  water,  a  boat's  length  "from  us. 

"He's  after  me,"  said  Bob,  in  a  whisper. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  I  replied  ;  "  he's  after  me  as  much  as  you 
—  or  Bill  Marline  here,"  turning  to  an  old  salt  of  our 
watch,  who  had  been  to  sea  before  either  of  us  was  born. 

The  old  man  didn't  speak  for  a  second  or  two,  but  chewed 
violently  while  he  looked  at  the  monster  as  he  swam  by, 
seemingly  twenty  feet  long. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  at  length,  "  I  don't  know  how  'tis,  but  I 
don't  like  to  see  them  fellows,  nor  to  talk  about  'em.  They 
know  too  much,  and  it's  a  pretty,  sure  thing  when  they  are 
round  that  somebody's  booked.  Mabbe  'tis  one,  mabbe 
'tis  another ;  we  don't  know,  but  they  do.  They  have  a 
record  of  it  all,  and  know  their  man  just  as  well  as  we  know 
one  of  our  men."  ' 

Bob  was  deathly  pale  in  the  moonlight  as  he  heard  this. 
The  slowly  uttered  words  of  the  old  sailor  sounded  to  his 


202  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

ears  like  the  burial  service,  "  We  commit  the  body  of  our 
dear  shipmate  to  the  deep,"  and  I  could  see  a  tear  in  his  eye. 
I  then  took  him  on  one  side  and  reasoned  with  him,  but 
it  was  of  no  use.  He  was  to  die  —  how,  he  did  not  know 
—  the  shark  was  to  have  something  to  do  with  it  —  and 
-he  was  to  see  his  New  Hampshire  home  no  more.  All 
this  while  the  great  sea-monster,  with  his  dorsal  fin  out  of 
water,  swam  lazily  along  in  the  moonlight. 

I  think  that  Bob  could  not  have  slept  a  wink  all  night. 
He  turned  and  turned  in  his  berth,  and  his  sighs  were 
piteous.  He  looked  so  haggard  and  worn  the  next  morn 
ing,  that  Mr.  Goodenough,  the  mate,  noticed  it. 

"  Ah,  Bob,"  said  he,  "  what's  the  matter  ?  You  look 
like  a  sick  hen." 

Bob  simply  replied  that  he  did  not  feel  very  well,  and 
turned  his  attention  to  his  duties. 

"  Time's  most  up,  Jack,"  said  he,  in  a  whisper ;  "  and 
look  there  ! " 

Sure  enough,  there,  scarcely  a  boat's  length  from  the 
brig,  was  seen  the  ominous  fin,  the  black  flag  of  the  bucca 
neer  of  the  finny  tribe  ;  aud  I  was  for  a  moment  shocked. 

"  This  can't  last  another  daj^,"  said  he,  seizing  the  rail ; 
"  and  you  believe  it ;  I  see  you  tremble.  You  must  go  up 
and  see  the  old  folks,  Jack,  and  tell  'em  how  penitent  I 
died,  and  that  my  life  was  not  thrown  away,  though  I  was  a 
runaway.  Give  them  my  chest,  and  give  little  Myra  the 
sea-elephant's  tooth  with  the  carving  upon  it,  to  keep  as  a 
memento,  and  Heaven  bless  you,  Jack." 

The  poor  fellow  wept  like  a  child. 

The  whole  crew  were  now  attracted  along  the  vessel's 
side  to  see  the  great  fish  that  was  so  desirous  of  our  com 
pany,  and  various  were  the  comments  made  upon  it,  none 
'of  which  were  of  the  sombre  character  of  poor  Bob's, 
though  they  all  looked  upon  it  with  a  feeling  of  dread. 


THE   VERIFICATION.  203 

The  cook  —  a  Cura9oa  darky  of  wonderful  ivories,  and  as 
black  as  jet  —  stood  looking  on  with  the  others,  his  face 
shining  in  the  sun,  his  emotions  evidently  different  from 
the  rest,  for  his  mouth  was  drawn  out  into  a  smile  that 
almost  divided  his  head,  what  was  not  mouth  seeming  but 
a  sort  of  black  ligament  behind  his  ears. 

"  He  wantee  brekfus,  guess,"  said  Africanus  to  himself. 

His  mind  at  this  seemed  to  arrive  at  a  very  decisive 
though  comical  conclusion.  He  darted  into  his  camboose, 
from  which  he  re-appeared  again  in  a  few  moments  with 
something  rolled  up  in  an  old  red  shirt,  that  seemed  to 
send  out  a  steam. 

"  What  have  you  got  there  ?  "  asked  the  mate. 

"  Brekfus  for  shark,  massa,"  was  the  reply,  with  an  ex 
pansive  grin. 

He  said  no  more,  but  threw  his  bundle  far  out  into  the 
water  before  the  nose  of  the  shark,  who,  waking  from  his 
supineness,  darted  forward,  and  immediately  swallowed  the 
object.  For  an  instant  the  monster  resumed  his  pace 
alongside  the  brig ;  but  this  was  succeeded  by  an  evident 
feeling  of  uneasiness,  and  a  moment  after  he  leaped  his 
length  from  the  water,  falling  upon  the  surface  with  a 
crash  that  sent  the  spray  flying  to  our  fore-yard.  Then  he 
swam  furiously  in  a  wild  circle  about  the  vessel,  leaping 
occasionally  from  the  water,  and  turned  upon  his  back. 
Soon  his  motions  ceased,  and,  rolling  over,  he  lay  a  silent 
mass  upon  the  water. 

"  Golly,"  said  Cura9oa,  t(  he  got  his  brekfus,  shu.  Hot 
brick  warmee  tummak." 

"  Did  you  give  him  a  hot  brick  ?  "  said  Mr.  Goodenough. 

"  Yes,  massa,"  said  Blacky,  with  a  grin  j  "  and  guess  he 
don't  'gree  wid  'em." 

There  was  a  loud  laugh  at  the  cook's  experiment,  and 
turning  to  speak  to  Bob,  I  found  he  had  left  my  side. 


204  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Where's  Bob  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Don't  know  ;  saw  him  here  a  minute  ago." 

I  went  round  to  the  other  side  of  the  boat.  He  was  not 
there.  We  called  him,  and  searched  for  him,  but  he  was 
not  to  be  found.  Then  it  seemed  sure  enough  that  poor 
Bob's  misgiving  had  been  verified,  and  I  mourned  his  loss, 
thinking  of  my  own  melancholy  mission  into  New  Hamp 
shire  to  inform  his  weeping  friends  of  his  death.  It  in  fact 
cast  a  gloom  over  all  the  vessel,  and  we  could  never  under 
stand  how  he  disappeared  so  suddenly,  supposing,  how 
ever,  that  his  mind,  becoming  morbid,  had  lost  its  balance, 
and  he  had  leaped  overboard  while  we  were  absorbed  by 
the  cook's  adventure  with  the  shark. 

The  vessel  arrived  in  a^out  eight  days,  and,  after  I  had 
got  clear  of  her,  I  set  about  the  performance  of  the  duty 
that  had  been  charged  upon  me  by  Bob.  I  embarked  for 
New  Hampshire,  having  stowed  Bob's  chest  in  the  bag 
gage-car,  and  thought,  all  the  way,  what  I  should  say  to 
the  mourning  friends.  It  was  something  that  I  was  not 
accustomed  to,  and  I  went  on  the  voyage  with  much  mis 
giving. 

I  stopped  at  the  pretty  little  station  of.  Spruceburg, 
among  the  hills,  at  which  a  coach  was  waiting  to  carry 
passengers  to  Bimmer,  a  town  some  four  miles  distant, 
that  was  the  place  of  my  destination.  Upon  this  coach 
Bob's  chest  was  hoisted ;  but,  when  I  attempted  to  enter, 
I  found  it  entirely  full,  and  the  driver's  seat  was  also  occu 
pied  by  two  besides  himself.  I  therefore  looked  for  some 
other  means  of  conveyance.  The  depot  master  proved 
my  friend,  and,  after  a  few  moments,  informed  me  that  a 
young  lady  from  Rimmer  was  in  town  with  a  wagon,  who 
would  return  alone  in  a  short  time,  and  that  she  would  be 
happy  to  accommodate  me  with  a  seat.  So  I  gave  direc 
tions  that  the  chest  should  be  left  at  the  hotel,  as  I  was 


THE   VERIFICATION.  205 

informed  there  was  one,  in  order  that  Bob's  friends  might 
not  see  it,  and  waited  for  my  fair  companion. 

The  wagon  was  pointed  out  to  me,  and  the  young  lady 
soon  came  along,  to  whom  I  introduced  myself,  and,  help 
ing  her  in,  I  sat  beside  her.  She  insisted  upon  driving,  of 
which  I  was  very  glad,  as  I  was  more  familiar  with  a  haw 
ser  than  a  horse.  She  was  exceedingly  pretty,  about  seven 
teen  years  old,  and  was  in  all  respects  interesting,  being 
one  of  those  bright  and  sparkling  little  fairies  that  are  con 
tinual  surprises  to  those  who  are  predisposed  to  believe 
that  all  country  productions  of  the  kind  are  awkward  and 
disagreeable ;  one  of  which,  however,  I  was  not.  I  found 
her  chatty  and  pheasant,  full  of  piquant  remarks,  in  which 
she  did  not  spare  me,  and  I  was  perfectly  delighted  with 
her.  The  conversation  at  last  turned  on  Birniner. 

"  Do  you  reside  there  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Yes." 

"  Then,  of  course,  you  are  acquainted-  with  all  the  people 
there.  Do  you  know  a  Small  family  ?  " 

"  There  are  quite  a  number  of  small  families/7  she  said ; 
"  in  fact,  none  very  large." 

"  I  mean  a  family  by  the  name  of  Small." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  understand.     Well,  I  do." 

"  Is  the  name  of  one  of  its  members  Myra  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  Myra  Small  and  myself  are  very  intimate.  We 
sing  in  the  same  choir." 

"  She  had  a  brother  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  Bob  Small.  He  was  a  wild  fellow,  and  went 
away  to  sea  years  ago." 

"  Have  they  mourned  him  ?  " 

"  No,  not  much.  He  locked  his  father  in  a  cellar  when 
he  went  away,  and  this  rather  set  them  against  him." 

"  Well,  I  have  sad  news  for  them.  I  have  just  returned 
from  a  voyage  with  him,  and  he  was  lost  at  sea." 

d 


20G  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Sad  news,  indeed,  that  will  be.      But  he  will  never 
shut  the  old  man  down  cellar  again —  will  he  ?  " 
"  No,  I  should  think  as  much." 
"  Nor  torment  poor  Myra  ?  " 

"  No ;  hut  he  th'ought  of  her  at  the  last,  poor  fellow ! 
and  I  have  a  parting  gift  for  her  from  him." 

I  inquired  about  the  old  folks  and  about  Myra,  and  the 
conversation  lasted  till  we  arrived  at  the  hotel,  where  she 
was  to  put  me  down,  which  I  chose  rather  than  go  to 
the  home  of  Bob  at  once.  I  waited  till  the  evening  before 
I  went  on  my  melancholy  errand.  It  was  a  fair  night  in 
September,  the  air  just  beginning  to  grow  a  little  chilly, 
and  I  walked  very  slowly,  almost  reluctantly,  to  an  en 
counter  that  I  very  much  dreaded.  My  duty  to  Bob 
alone  sustained  me  in  the  effort. 

The  homestead  was  a  substantial  old  farm-house,  with  a 
lane  leading  up  to  it,  and,  turning  into  which,  I  proceeded 
on  my  errand,  my  heart  beating  a  loud  alarum  on  my  ribs. 
The  windows  were  all  ablaze  with  light,  and  a  strain  of 
music  floated  to  me  from  the  house,  auguring  a  scene  of 
happiness  and  peace  within,  that  I,  fiend-like,  was  going 
to  interrupt.  Should  I  go  on  ?  Yes,  duty  to  Bob  im 
pelled  me. 

I  approached  and  rapped  upon  the  door.  All  was  still  in 
a  moment ;  but  nobody  came.  I  rapped  again,  and  fancied 
I  heard  in  response  a  titter  on  the  inside.  This  time,  how 
ever,  there  was  the  sound  of  turning  a  key  or  removing  a 
bolt ;  the  door  swung  open,  and  there,  in  the  light  of  two 
blazing  lamps,  held  in  the  hands  of  my  fairy  of  the  wagon, 
who  "  sang  in  the  choir  with  Myra  Small,"  stood  my  old 
shipmate  Bob,  in  apparently  excellent  condition,  and  with 
an  expression  upon  his  face  altogether  unlike  that  which 
any  ghost  that  I  ever  heard  of  wears. 

"  Bob    Small,   by   all   that's    rascally ! "    said   I,    for  a 


THE   VERIFICATION.  207 

moment   regretting  that  he   was  not   at   the   bottom  of 
the  sea. 

"  Yes,  Jack/'  said  he,  after  I  had  entered,  "  the  very 
same.  I  hid  away  in  the  run  on  board  the  brig, 
ashamed  of  my  wild  prognostic  when  the  nigger  killed  the 
shark,  and  I  determined  that  even  you  should  not  see  me 
till  you  saw  me  here,  as  I  knew  you  would,  because  I  knew 
you  would  comply  with  my  dying  request.  So  Myra  has 
been  down  to  the  depot  every  day  for  a  week  to  watch  for 
the  big  chest,  and  the  fellow  along  with  it,  thanking  her 
stars  to-day  at  the  fortune  which  gave  you  her  company. 
She  knew  you  from  my  description  and  the  chest." 

u  Well,  Bob,"  I  said,  "  I  suppose  I  ought  to  rejoice  that 
you  are  alive,  though  hang  me  if  I  would  undergo  so  much 
inquietude  on  any  account  again.  And  Miss  Myra  must 
accept  my  apology  for  not  recognizing  her  by  instinct." 

Then  the  old  folks  came  in,  and  we  had  a  good  time  all 
round,  the  old  gentleman  informing  me  of  the  trick  put 
upon  him  in  shutting  him  down  cellar,  which  he  seemed  to 
relish  as  he  recalled  it ;  and  the  old  lady  looked  as  pleas 
ant  as  an  October  evening,  while  Myra  beamed  ineffably 
on  all. 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  finish  my  story  by  falling  in  love 
with  Myra  and  marrying  her ;  but  I  found  no  chance  for 
that,  because  she  had  a  huge  mechanic  who  was  booked 
for  her  good  graces,  though  she  liked  me  as  the  friend  of 
Bob ;  and  I  gave  her  the  elephant's  t^oth,  with  his  dying 
speech,  which,  years  after,  I  saw  her  youngest  babe  cutting 
its  teeth  upon  —  I  mean  the  tooth,  of  course,  and  not  the 
speech. 

Bob  is  now  one  of  the  most  successful  shipmasters  out 
of  New  York,  and  I  am  —  the  reader's  very  humble  ser 
vant. 


208  PAHTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 


BUILDING   THE   BRIDGE. 

A  TRUTHFUL  STORY  OF  OLD  PEMIGEWASSET. 

OUT  spake  the  Plymouth  landlord : 

"  A  bridge  we'll  straightway  throw 
Across  Pemigewasset's  tide 

To  where  the  wild  flowers  blow." 
Then  out  spake  stout  Seth  Brownleaf, 

Conductor  on  the  road  : 
"  'Twere  worth  a  deal  to  all  that  here 

Mayhap  shall  find  abode  j 
And  how  can  one  do  better 

Than  herein  show  his  skill, 
For  the  credit  of  his  genius 

And  the  power  of  his  will  ? 

"  So  down  the  bridge  goes,  landlord, 

With  all  the  speed  it  may ; 
I,  with  two  more  to  help  me, 

Will  build  it  in  a  day. 
O'er  that  bright  stream  a  pathway 

May  well  be  built  by  three  ; 
Now  who  will  stand  on  either  hand 

And  build  the  bridge  with  me  ?  " 

Then  out  spake  Jotham  Hornbeam ; 

A  rum'un  rough  was  he  : 
"  Lo,  I  will  stand  with  axe  in  hand, 

And  build  the  bridge  with  thee." 


BUILDING  THE  BRIDGE.  209 

And  out  spake  strong  Jo  Chesman  — 

A  granite  boy  was  lie : 
"  I  will  abide  with  boards  supplied, 

And  build  the  bridge  with  thee." 

"  Seth  Brownleaf/'  said  the  landlord, 

"  As  thou  sayest  so  let  it  be." 
And  straightway  went  on  their  intent 

Those  sturdy  builders  three ; 
For  such  men  in  such  spirit 

Were  bound  a  bridge  to  throw, 
That  son  and  wife,  in  limb  and  life, 

Might  safely  over  go. 

The  three  stood  calm  and  silent, 

And  looked  upon  the  tide, 
Then  planted  first  a  joiner's  bench 

That  lay  the  stream  beside  ; 
And  soon  the  boarders,  looking  on, 

Felt  their  hearts  thrill  to  see 
The  joiner's  bench  and  an  old  board  fence 

A  path  for  the  dauntless  three. 

The  axe  and  hammer  sounded, 

As  manfully  they  plied, 
And  the  bridge  stretched  out  behind  them 

In  its  majesty  and  pride. 
"  Come  back  !  come  back  !  bold  Brownleaf," 

Cried  the  boarders  with  a  turst ; 
"On,  Hornbeam!  on,  Jo  Chesman! 

And  we  will  quench  your  thirst.'7 

On  labored  Jotham  Hornbeam, 
Jo  Chesman  pushed  ahead  j 
18* 


210  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

The  hammers  rattled  merrily, 
The  work  triumphant  sped  ; 

And  when  they  turned  their  faces 
Towards  the  thither  land, 

They  saw  brave  Brownleaf  coming  back 
With  a  stone  jug  in  his  hand. 

Then,  with  a  shout  like  thunder, 

They  laid  the  last  cross-beam, 
And  their  voices  echoed  merrily 

O'er  Pemigewasset's  stream ; 
And  a  loud  shout  of  triumph 

Hose  from  the  other  side, 
As  finished  was  the  mighty  bridge 

Across  the  rushing  tide. 

Alone  stood  brave  Seth  Brownleaf, 

For  the  others  had  gone- in, 
And  the  way  they  bagged  those  fluids 

Was  what  men  term  "  a  sin." 
"He's  done  it! "  cried  Si.  Winkley, 

As  he  took  another  chaw ; 
"  'Twill  squash  !  "  said  old  Lishe  Porcina, 

Bringing  down  his  dexter  paw. 

Bound  turned  his  broad  face  glowing ; 

His  mates  were  overcome  ; 
Nor  spoke  a  word  did  he  to  them, 

But  looked  towards  his  home  ; 
He  saw  the  hotel  beaming  fair  — 

The  boarders  in  a  row  — 
And  he  spoke  to  the  noble  river 

That  at  his  feet  did  flow :  — 


BUILDING  THE  BlilDGE.  211 

"  Father  Pemigcwasset ! 

Look  at  this  bridge,  I  pray. 
Its  joiner's  bench,  its  boards  and  nails, 

Take  them  in  charge  this  day." 
So  he  spoke,  and  gathered  up  the  tools, 

His  handsaw  by  his  side, 
And  then  upon  the  bridge  he'd  made 

He  crossed  the  humbled  tide. 

And  now  the  shore  he  reaches, 

Now  on  the  bank  he  stands, 
Now  round  him  throng  the  boarders, 

Who  shake  his  muddy  hands ; 
But  when,  three  weeks  thereafter, 

The  fresh  came  down  apace, 
Away  went  the  bridge  like  a  cobweb  chain, 

And  left  not  a  single  trace. 

Yet  Hornbeam  and  Jo  Chesman 

Both  swear,  by  main  and  might, 
That  they  were  sober  as  a  judge, 

And  only  Seth  was  tight ; 
And  say  the  bridge  would  e'er  have  stood 

Through  all  the  tides  and  gales, 
If  the  whiskey  hadn't  somehow  got 

Spilt  over  'mongst  the  nails. 

NOTE.  —  The  foregoing  incident  in  Roman  history  will  be  remem 
bered  by  some  of  the  older  sojourners  at  the  Pemigewasset  House, 
in  Plymouth,  New  Hampshire.  Seth's  bridge  was  regarded  a  fine 
specimen  of  engineering,  though  he  was  not  an  engineer;  simply  a 
conductor.  It  is  supposed  that  it  was  from  this  incident  that  Ma- 
caulay  conceived  his  idea  of  the  "  Keeping  of  the  Bridge  "  by  Hora- 
tius  and  others,  which  he  consequently  put  in  feeble  verse. 


212  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


A  MODEL   MAN'S   EXPERIENCES. 

THIS  story  being  about  myself,  my  friends  will  readily 
understand  that  I  am  not  parading  myself  as  a  paragon,  a 
model*  of  human,  excellence,  and  my  friend  Young,  the 
artist,  well  knows  that  I  am  no  model  for  his  use ;  the  term 
model  has  a  significance  peculiar  to  itself,  which  will  be 
explained  in  the  brief  sketch  here  written.  You  will  gen 
erally  find  model  men,  like  a  peach,  only  bright  on  one 
side  —  the  other  often  being  wormy  and  sour;  the  specious 
show  outside,  perhaps  but  skin  deep,  hides  the  defects,  and 
the  thing  passes  for  much  more  than  it  is  really  worth.  I 
know  model  husbands,  who  are  pointed  at  as  domestic 
copies  for  neighborhoods,  because  they  never  go  out  nights, 
never  mix  in  society,  never  have  an  idea  beyond  their  own 
limits  —  a  sort  of  "  me  and  my  wife  "  people,  who  are  not 
remarkable  for  any  thing  except  %that  they  are  models  ;  but 
Heaven  forbid  that  their  selfish  pattern  should  be  followed 
by  living  men.  % 

But  this  is  not  what  I  was  going  to  say.  When  I  came 
to  Boston,  some,  ten  years  since,  I  was  in  a  severe  corner. 
I  had  borrowed  money  enough  to  bring  me  here,  but  the 
last  shilling  was  on  the  verge  of  being  expended,  and 
where  to  look  for  more  I  knew  not.  I  had  nothing  to  do, 
and  to  beg- 1  was  ashamed.  Indeed  I  was  a  little  particu 
lar  as  to  what  I  might  have  to  do,  for  I  had  graduated 
with  some  honor  at  the  academy  in  my  native  town,  and 
had  chosen  an  entire  suit  of  black  for  my  outfit,  at  twenty- 
one, —  my  age  when  I  left  home,  —  implying  that  some 
genteel  position  was  the  one  destined  to  be  filled  by  me. 
Perhaps  I  should  become  a  clergyman,  or  a  lawyer,  or  a 
schoolmaster,  —  there  was  nothing  in  the  way  of  a  profes- 


A  MODEL  MAN'S  EXPEEIENCES.  213 

sion  that  was  too  high  for  my  ambition,  — and  my  let-down 
on  the  last  shilling  and  nothing  to  do  was  very  depress 
ing.  A  fall  in  the  mercury  from  ninety  degrees  to  forty 
could  not  be  more  so. 

Like  the  man  when  treed  by  a  bear,  I  felt  that  some 
thing  was  to  be  done,  and  I  ran  my  thought  along  the 
whole  gamut  of  expedients,  but  couldn't  elicit  any  thing 
satisfactory.  Some  people  have  a  special  gift  of  luck,  and 
when  out  of  employment  run  their  noses  by  what  seems 
chance,  but  which  is,  in  fact,  providence,  right  into  good 
situations  and  good  pay.  I  felt  that  I  was  not  thus  gifted, 
but  was  called  to  work  my  way  into  place  by  the  sweat 
of  brain  and  the  power  of  tact.  Then  I  thought  it  over 
again,  and  resolved  upon  a  plan.  I  would  create  a  new 
business,  and  use  the  press,  that  stupendous  lever,  to 
hoist  myself  into  notice.  Full  of  this  idea  I  took  advan 
tage  of  a  slight  acquaintance  I  had  made  with  the  editor 
Q£  the  Herald  to  insert  in  his  "valuable  journal  "  the  'fol 
lowing  advertisement :  — 

"A  MODEL  MAN. — A  young  man  from  the  country,  of  good  fig 
ure,  manners,  and  education,  desires  to  let  himself  as  a  model,  for 
the  display  of  clothing,  hats,  boots,_  shirts,  collars,  -or  any  articles  of 
dress,  in  a  manner  to  exhibit  all  their  beauty  and  excellence;  or, 
being  in  good  condition,  would  serve  as  an  exemplification  of  the 
benefit  of  living  at  any  specified  eating-house.  Terms  moderate. 
Apply  at  this  office." 

This  was  a  bold  stroke,  and  my  friend  the  editor,  as  he 
marked  the  advertisement  before  giving  it  to  the  printers, 
with  a  latent  idea  that  he  was  going  to  get  his  pay  for  it, 
said  that  the  conceit  was  a  good  one,  decidedly  original, 
and,  if  it  took  well,  was  bound  to  be  popular.  The  adver 
tisement  appeared,  and  I  heard  it  discussed  in  various 
places  where  I  was  not  known,  and  coupled  often  with 
very  discouraging  remarks,  not  complimentary  at  all  to  the 
sagacity  of  the  advertiser.  But  the  next  day  after  it 


214  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

appeared,  I  was  in  the  editorial  room,  when  a  gentleman 
came  in  and  asked  for  the  "  model  man,"  whom  I  imme 
diately  avowed  myself  to  be,  with  a  front  as  brassy  as 

though  I  had  been  boarding  a  year  in  's  family, 

with  the  benefit  of  his  distinguished  example. 

"  I  am  that  individual,  sir,"  said  I ;  "  what  can  I  do  for 
you  ?  "  I  couldn't  have  been  more  cool  if  I  had  been  bo- 
hind  a  counter,  and  he  had  come  in  to  purchase  a  bill  of 
goods. 

He  took  a  slip  of  paper  from  his  vest  pocket,  read  it, 
looked  at  me,  and  said,  — 

"  This  is  all  right,  —  is  it  ?     You're  tlie  model  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  I;  "the  first  I  think  that  ever  oper 
ated  here.  In  Paris  they  have  long  been  established,  also 
in  London  and  Liverpool,  but  they  have  never  before 
crossed  the  Atlantic." 

"  How  is  the  business  conducted  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Very  simply,"  I  said.  "A  merchant  has  clothing  for 
sale.  He  fits  me  with  a  new  suit,  and  sends  me  out  to 
exhibit  it,  which  I  do  everywhere,  and  send  him  lots  of 
customers,  he  giving  me  the  clothes  and  a  moderate  per 
centage  on  the  sales.  So  of  boots  and  hats ;  and  these 
being  essential  to  the  better  display  of  the  clothes,  I  leave 
the  tailor  the  office  of  finding  customers  for  me  in  this 
line." 

"  And  will  they  do  it  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Do  it  ?  Of  course  they  will,"  I  replied.  "  Why,  I 
so  alarmed  a  merchant  in  London,  who  was  a  little  hard 
in  terms,  by  threatening  to  be  a  model  for  another  house, 
that  he  allowed  me  to  hire  a  horse  and  buggy,  and  a  boy 
\o  drive  me  round  town.  'Pon  honor." 

"  You  don't  say  so ! "  said  he.  "  Well,  my  business  is 
wigs;  do  you  ever  do  any  thing  in  that  line?" 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  ever  did,"  I  replied  :  "  that  is  regarded 


A   MODEL  MAN'S  EXPERIENCES.  215 

as  the  ornamental  branch  of  the  work,  and  commands 
higher  pay,  but  I  am  disposed  to  attempt  it  if  you  wish." 

He  immediately  engaged  me  at^ten  dollars  per  week  to 
circulate  as  a  demonstrator  of  wigs.  It  was  in  July  when 
I  commenced  my  perambulations,  and  I  soon  found  that  I 
had  got  my  foot  in  it.  There  were  varieties  of  wigs  that  I 
had  to  wear  —  thick  wigs  and  thin  wigs,  long-tailed  wigs  and 
bob-wigs,  curled  wigs  and  shorn  wigs,  black  wigs  and  white 
wigs  —  until  I  almost  lost  my  identity.  Passing  through 
the  street  one  ,day,  a  familiar  voice,  accosted  me  with,  — 

"  How  are  you,  Eoby  ?  " 

This  was  the  name  I  had  borne  in  my  state  of  native- 
innocence,  and  I  recognized  one  of  my  school  companions. 
I^turned  towards  him  to  express  my  'delight  at  meeting 
with  him,  when  he  very  confusedly  said,  — 

"  Excuse  me,  sir  —  mistaken  in  the  person ; "  and  darting 
round  a  near  corner  he  disappeared.  I  had  that  day 
paraded  a  brilliant  red  wig,  and  my  natural  hair  was  as 
black  as  the  raven's  wing. 

This  was  but  one  of  many  similar  accidents  that  hap 
pened.  Once  I  was  held  as  a  witness  about  a  street  fight ; 
but  when  I  came  into  court,  my  testimony  was  rejected, 
because  the  officer  wasn't  satisfied,  from  the  color  of  my 
hair,  that  I  was  the  person,  which  was  made  a  point  by  the 
counsel  opposed  to  us,  and  I  escaped,  thanks  to  a  judicious 
change  of  wig.  I  continued  in  the  wig  business  until  my 
employer  wanted  me  to  wear  female  curls,  which  I  ob 
jected  to  as  unsexing  the  profession,  and  gave  it  up. 

I  had,  in  the  mean  time,  made  agreement  with  a  fash 
ionable  tailor,  and  sported  every  variety  of  habiliment, — 
dress  coats,  frock  coats,  business  coats,  bobtail  coats,  —  till, 
with  those  who  only  saw  me  in  exterior,  I  was  regarded 
as  a  brazen  spendthrift;  and  I  heard,  from  one  of  those 
friends  who  love  to  tell  us  unpleasant  things,  that  a  story 
had  been  made  up  about  me,  wherein  I  figured  as  the 


216  PAHTINGTONIAN  PATCH  WORK. 

graceless  heir  to  an  immense  estate,  that  I  was  spending 
in  a  manner  rivalling  the  reckless  extravagance  of  the 
prodigal  son,  was  a  libertine  and  gambler,  had  brought  my 
father's  gray  hairs  in  sorrow  to  the  grave,  broken  my 
mother's  heart,  and -had  rendered  my  sisters  infamous 
by  association  with  my  name  !  It  was  astonishing  how 
my  acquaintance  was  sought,  after  this,Jby  respectable  peo 
ple.  I  was  an  object  of  marked  attention  with  the  ladies, 
and  a  formidable  rival  with  rascals  not  half  so  lurid  as  I 
was,  who  looked  up  to  me  with  emulous  ambition.  In  the 
mean  time  I  was  a  living  and  moving  eulogy  of  my  tailor, 
and  the  firm  who  employed  me  increased  in  business  so 
rapidly  that  the  original  proprietors  withdrew  from  the 
concern,  and  retired  to  the  otium  cum  dig.,  as  all  sensible 
poople  ought  to  do  when  they  have  got  money  enough.  I 
broke  with  them  at  last,  and  stood  out  on  my  own  inde 
pendence,  when  they  wanted  me  to  introduce  the  kilt  as  a 
summer  costume.  I  remonstrated  with  them,  with  tears 
in  my  eyes,  but  they  were  unbending,  and,  throwing  my 
trews  in  their  faces,  I  departed.  The  firm  failed,  I  was 
happy  to  learn,  in  less  than  three  months. 

As  a  boot  tree  I  was  not  so  fortunate,  my.  foot  being 
No.  10,  and  No.  8  the  average  wear ;  but  by  much  crowd 
ing  and  taking  the  boot  off  round  the  first  corner  and 
wearing  the  old  ones,  I  got  along  pretty  well.  I  was  bet 
ter  with  hats,  and  made  the  fortunes  of  several  in  exempli 
fying  the  beauties  of  some  new  patterns,-  by  talking  elo 
quently  of  allegiance  to  the  crown,  and  advising  people  to 
go  and  buy  where  I  did. 

My  business  was  well  established,  and  so  adroitly  man 
aged  that  I  enjoyed  it  in  monopoly  for  a  long  time,  no  one 
suspecting  me  ;  but  at  last  vague  ideas  of  it  began  to  pre 
vail,  and  I  was  annoyed  by  all  sorts  of  inquiries  and  the 
queerest  propositions.  A  man,  a  tobacconist,  wished  me 
to  stand  at  his  door,  in  Indian  costume,  as  a  signj' 


A  MODEL  MAN'S  EXPERIENCES.  217 

another,  a  watchmaker,  asked  me  to  dress  as  Father 
Time,  and  stand  over  his  shop  with  scythe  and  hour-glass  ; 
and  an  undertaker  asked  my  terms  to  lie  in  an  open  coffin, 
and  dress  for  interment ! 

Business  ran  down  after  this,  as  rapidly  as  it  had  grown, 
and  I  was  disgusted  and  disheartened  with  the  annoyances. 
I  was  about  giving  it  up  in  despair,  when  an  aching  tooth 
drove  me  to  my  friend  Molar's,  the  dentist,  to  have  it  out. 
He  looked  in  my  mouth,  thrust  iron  prongs  into  it,  in 
serted  a  small  looking-glass  and  turned  it  in  all  directions, 
and  seemed  at  last  ready  to  get  in  himself,  when  I  stopped 
him  to  ask  why  he  didn't  go  ahead. 

"  You've  got  a  capital  mouth  for  a  set  of  teeth  ! "  said  he. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  I ;  "  I  always  keep  a  set  on  hand." 

"  Yes,"  he  said  again  ;  "  but  these  are  giving  out  —  they 
won't  .last  a  month  —  half  of  'em  are  decayed  now."  Here 
he  gave  them  a  push  this  way  and  that,  till  the  whole 
seemed  in  a  painful  dance  round  my  mouth,  and  I  yelled 
with  misery. 

"  I  don't  see,"  said  he,  "  why  any  one  will  suffer  so,  when 
he  can  have  them  out  so  easy,  and  new  ones  supplied.  Let 
me  take  yours  out,  and  I'll  put  you  in  a  set  that  will  be 
more  beautiful  than  the  real  ones  ever  were.  Besides,  I 
will  hire  you  to  grin  at  all  public  places,  to  show  their 
superiority." 

"  Insidious  tempter,"  said  I,  quite  cured ;  "  you  are 
rather  worse  in  your  proposition  than  the  undertaker.  I 
cannot  think  of  it.  Farewell." 

And  thus  I  left  him.  That  same  afternoon  I  received  a 
visit  at  my  lodgings  —  where  I  had  located  my  office — • 
from  a  tall,  grave-looking  gentleman,  with  spectacles  on, 
who  asked  me  in  a  slow,  measured  voice,  if  I  was  the 
model  man.  I  told  him  such  was  my  profession. 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  as  I  am  a  man  of  very  few  words,  and 

19 


218  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

never  say  a  great  deal,  deeming  that  talking,  while  it  con 
sumes  the  time,  is  really  no  great-  benefit  to  conversation, 
inasmuch  as  a  short  horse  is  soon  curried,  and  a  fool  is 
known  by  his  much  babbling,  according  to  holy  writ,  which 
it  becomes  us  all  to  respect  —  being,  therefore,  as  I  said,  a 
man  of  few  words,  and  desiring  to  avoid  all  circumlocution 
in  getting  at  my  object  —  an  object,  I  may  say,  that  I  have 
given  some  thought,  and  seen  in  it  an  advantage  to  another 
object  that  has  long  engrossed  attention — being  of  a  few 
words,  allow  me  to  ask  you,  sir,  if  you  ever  dwelt  upon 
wooden  legs  ?  " 

He  fixed  his  spectacles  on  me  as  he  concluded,  which 
burnt  into  my  brain  like  two  red  hot  interrogation  points. 

"  Never,"  said  I,  "  never ; "  not  guessing  his  meaning. 

"  Then,"  continued  he,  "  to  come  to  the  subject  in  the 
shortest  possible  way,  with  the  least  expenditure  of  breath, 
inasmuch  as  we  have  none  of  us  any  to  spare  where  pure 
air  is  as  scarce  as  lawyers  in  heaven  —  employing  a  saying 
derived  from  an  ancient  theological  writer,  though  I  trust 
not  true  —  would  you  like  to  be  a  model,  now,  to  show  off 
around  town  a  wooden  leg  we  have  achieved,  that  puts 
anatomy,  physiology,  and  humbugs  of  that  kind  at  defi 
ance,  sir  ?  " 

I  had  risen  to  my  feet  when  I  got  at  his  meaning,  and 
when  he  had  concluded,  I  yelled  out  "No!"  in  a  tone  that 
made  the  candelabra  on  the  mantel  chatter  .with  affright. 

"  Very  well,"  said  he ;  "  your  manner,  though  abrupt  and 
uncourteous,  pleases  me.  I  always  study  brevity,  and'  like 
it  in  others."  Saying  this  he  left  me. 

I  that  afternoon  went  to  New  York  with  the  little  money 
I  had  saved,  and  soon  became  independent  in  the  leather 
watch  guard  business  in  Nassau  Street.  I  was  never  a 
model  man  afterwards,  though  virtue  and  propriety  have 
been,  I  may  say,  my  grand  characteristics. 


WOEK  OF   THE   OLD   MASTEKS.  219 


WORK  OF  THE  OLD  MASTERS. 

IN  the  schools  kept  forty  years  ago,  and  perhaps  later, 
the  ferule  was  the  emblem  of  authority,  and  a  picture  I 
once  saw,  illustrative  of  the -"Work  of  the  Old  Masters/' 
—  not  in  Jarves's  collection,  —  represented  a  boy  under 
going  flagellation  with  just  such  an  instrument,  in  the 
hands  of  the  conventional,  lean,  and  lank  individual  desig 
nated  the  Schoolmaster.  The  picture  was  interesting  to 
me  as  feelingly  recalling  scenes  wherein  I  had  taken  un 
willing  part,  no  more  pleasant  than  this — the  contortions 
of  the  boy  revealing  a  far  from  beatific  state  of  mind  under 
the  progress  of  the  work.  Who  of  the  older  boys  does 
not  remember  the  day  and  dominion  of  ferules  ?  Every 
master  was  supplied  with  one,  either  lying  ready  for  use 
upon  his  desk  or  stuck  in  a  socket  by  its  side,  in  open 
sight  of  the  scholars,  held  —  as  my  friend  the  linguist 
says  in  Latin,  which  he  speaks  like  his  mother  tongue  — 
"in  te  Deum  over  them."  There  was  often  an  exercise  of 
fancy  and  taste  in  the  form  of  the  ferule,  and  the  charac 
ter  of  the  master  could  be  gathered  from  the  implement 
employed  to  enforce  his  authority.  The  same  peculiarities 
were  apparent  in  the  use.  Some  were  but  botches  and 
bunglers,  their  simple  aim  being  to  get  through  with  the 
flogging  as  soon  as  possible,  striking  heavily  and  in  ear 
nest  :  but  the  performance  bore  none  of  the  masterly 
touches  of  genius.  Others  refined  upon  punishment,  their 
motive  apparently  being  to  manifest  to  their  subjects  the 
superiority  of  their  mode  of  "  laying  on"  to  that  of  any 
one  else.  I  remember  the  first  ferule  at  which  I  trembled. 
It  was  a  formidable  "  ruler,"  of  lignum-vitge,  broad,  thick, 


220  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

and  long,  and  woe  to  the  delinquent  unfortunate  enough  to 
be  flogged  with  it  !^  An  aching  hand  for  a  week  secured  a 
week's  immunity  from  mischief;  but  oh,  such  hatred  as  it 
enkindled,  and  such  bitterness  of  spirit,  and  such  nursing 
of  revenge,  that  even  the  good-nature  of  boyhood  could 
not  lull  into  forgetfulness  ! 


The  identical  ferule,  belonging  to   Master  "W ,  the 

last  that  I  suffered  under,  has  become  mine,  after  a  lapse  of 
thirty-five  years.  The  master  has  long  since  passed  away, 
remembered  kindly  by  thousands,  who,  though  never  spared 
for  faults,  were  ever  encouraged  in  well-doing  by  him,  who 
had  constantly  their  good  at  heart.  The  writer  hereof 
yields  his  tribute  to  his  old  master's  worth,  recalling  the 
benevolence  of  his  smile  and  the  gentle  words  of  admoni 
tion  and  loving  counsel  that  marked  their  last  interview. 
The  ferule,  as  a  relic,  released  a  crowd  of  old-time  memo 
ries,  and  reflections  that  took  the  form  of  rhyme,  which 
he  here  appends.  They  rather  apply  to  the  general  ferule 
than  the  particular ;  and  that  its  dominion  has  ceased  is  a 
matter  for  hearty  gratulation,  though  the  tyranny  that 
prompted  its  use  still  exists  in  a  degree  ;  but  that  is  dying 
out  before  the  light  of  to-day's  progress. 

THE  OLD  FERULE: 

GRIM  relic  of  a  distant  time, 
More  interesting  than  sublime ! 
Thou'rt  fitting  subject  for  my  rhyme, 

And  touch'st  me  queerly  ; 
Unlike  the  touch  that  youthful  crime 

Provoked  severely. 


WOEK  OF  THE  OLD  MASTERS.  221 

It  was  a  dark  and  fearful  day 

When  thou  held'st  sovereign  rule  and  sway, 

And  all  Humanity  might  say 

Could  not  avert 
The  doom  that  brought  thee  into  play, 

And  wrought  us  hurt ! 

Ah,  Solomon,  that  dogma  wild, 
Of  sparing  rod  and  spoiling  child, 
Has  long  thy  reputation  soiled, 

And  few  defend  it ; 
Our  teachers  draw  it  far  more  mild, 

And  strive  to  mend  it. 

Oh  !  bitter  were  the  blows  and  whacks 
That  fell  on  our  delinquent  backs, 
When,  varying  from  moral  tracks, 

In  youthful  error, 
Thou  mad'st  our  stubborn  nerves  relax 

With  direst  terror. 

I  know  'twas  urged  that  our  own  good 
Dwelt  in  the  tingle  of  the  wood 
That  scored  us  as  we  trembling  stood, 

And  couldn't  flee  it ; 
But  I  confess  I  never  could 

Exactly  see  it. 

The  smothered  wrath  at  every  stroke 
Was  keenly  felt,  though  never  spoke, 
And  twenty  devils  rampant  broke 

For  one  subdued, 
And  all  discordances  awoke  — 

A  fiendish  brood. 
19* 


222  PAETINGTONIAN  TATCHWOEK. 

And  impish  trick  and  vengeful  spite 
Essayed  with  all  their  skill  and  might 
To  make  the  balance  poise  aright ; 

And  hate,  sharp-witted, 
Ne'er  left  occasion,  day  or  night, 

To  pass  omitted. 

I  see  it  now  :  —  the  whittled  doors, 
The  window-panes  smashed  in  by  scores, 
The  desecrated  classic  floors, 

The  benches  levelled, 
The  streaming  ink  from  murky  pores, 

The  books  bedevilled. 

Small  reverence  for  Learning's  fane, 
For  master's  toil  of  nerve  and  brain, 
They  saw  Instruction  marred  with  pain, 

And  Alma  Mater 
Was  thought  of  only  by  the  train 

To  deprecate  her. 

'Tis  strange  to  have  thee  in  my  grasp, 
My  fingers  round  thy  handle  clasp ; 
No  sense  of  pain  my  feelings  rasp, 

As  last  I  knew  thee ; 
Then  thou  didst  sting  me  like  an  #sp, 

Foul  shame  unto  thee ! 

But  gentler  moods  suggest  the  thought  — 
That  still  thine  office,  anguish-fraught, 
For  my  best  good  unselfish  wrought, 

Had  I  but  known  it, 
And  I,  with  grateful  spirit,  ought 

To  freely  own  it. 


GRAPE-SKINS.  223 

Perhaps  —  but  I  am  glad  at  heart 

That  thou  no  more  bear'st  sovereign  part 

In  helping  on  Instruction's  art 

By  terror's  rule  — 
That  other  modes  will  prompt  the  smart 

Than  this  in  school. 

Thanks,  old  reminder  of  the  past, 
For  this  brief  vision  backward  cast ; 
We  measure  progress  to  contrast 

Times  far  and  near, 
Rejoiced,  on  summing  up  at  last, 

We're  not  arrear. 


GRAPE-SKINS. 

I  SAW  a  man  of  portly  estate 
Walking  the  street  with  regal  gait ; 
Just  the  man  that  the  eye  well  suits, 
Proper  and  nice  from  hat  to  boots. 
So  perfect  his  coat,  so  neat  his  vest, 
An  exquisite  taste  was  manifest, 
And  every  one  who  chose  to  scan 
Could  only  say,  "  What  a  tasteful  man ! " 

Alas  for  the  glory  of  human  pride, 

As  frail  and  fickle  as  the  tide  ! 

For  the  polish  of  blacking  and  brush  and  oil 

One  little  spatter  of  mud  may  spoil. 


224  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

E'en  as  he  walked  the  pave  along, 
With  head  exalted  and  footstep  strong, 
He  trod  on  a  grape-skin  in  his  way, 
And  a  man  disgraced  in  the  dirt  he  lay ! 

This  moral  I  drew  from  what  I  saw : 
There  are  men  in  the  world  without  a  flaw, 
Who  are  in  such  robes  of  sanctity  found, 
And  such  rare  virtues  engirt  them  round, 
That  we  humble  ourselves,  as  we  pass  them  by, 
With  reverent  and  admiring  eye, 
Saying,  while  viewing  such  merits  rare, 
"  Bless  us,  what  good  men  they  are ! " 

But  alas  for  the  glory  of  human  pride, 
As  frail  and  fickle  as  the  tide  ! 
In  the  world  of  men  they  exalt  their  horn, 
As  though  of  a  better  clay  they  were  born. 
But  there  in  their  path  the  grape-skins  wait, 
—  Temptations  hidden  perhaps  till  late  — 
One  step  of  the  foot  —  one  curvetting  lurch, 
And  down  they  come  from  their  eminent  perch. 

In  dress  or  morals  'tis  much  the  same ; 
And  happy  is  he  who  wins  his  fame, 
If  he  die  at  its  zenith,  nor  has  to  wait 
Till  he  slip  and  fall  through  invidious  fate. 
He  may  dodge  the  rock  and  shy  the  cloud 
That  threat  his  step  and  bearing  proud, 
But  let  him  not  crow  till  danger's  past  — 
He  may  by  a  grape-skin  be  overcast. 


THE  LETTER  OF   DISMISSAL.  225 


THE    LETTER    OF    DISMISSAL. 

MANY  years  ago  there  lived  in  our  town  two  young  per 
sons  that  every  one  said  were  made  expressly  for  each 
other;  and  that  the  parties  thought  so  to,  was  very  evi 
dent  from  the  way  in  which  they  sought  each  other's  so 
ciety.  It  was  rare  to  meet  one  without  the  other  —  at 
church,  or  on  a  ramble  in  the  romantic  places  about  the 
town,  on  the  old  bridge  that  crossed  the  brook  in  the 
meadow,  in  the  forest  path  that  led  down  by  the  ruin  of 
the  mill  where  the  man  was  sawn  into  slabs  by  a  gang 
saw,  at  every  rustic  party  where  candy  and  kisses  ruled 
the  hour,  — they  were  always  together  ;  and  a  more  loving 
couple  never  were  seen  than  they.  They  obtained  the 
sobriquet  of  "  The  Turtle  Doves/'  and  as  they  moved 
along  so  very  lovingly,  the  young  girls  would  look  after 
them  very  wistfully,  and  wish  that  Heaven  had  made  them 
such  a  dear,  nice,  pretty,  agreeable  young  man  as  was 
Walter  Kymes,  and  the  young  men  had  a  similar  wish 
about  Jennie  Laurel,  who  was  called  "the  village  belle. 

And  she  was  pretty.  I  remember  her  very  well,  and 
before  her  entire  absorption  by  Walter  Rymes,  I  had  what 
a  maiden  aunt  of  mine  denominated,  very  unpoetically,  a 
"  sneaking  notion,"  after  her  myself;  had  twice  escorted 
her  home  from  singing  school,  and  once  had  pressed  upon 
her  acceptance  a  large  pippin  apple,  at  which  she  was 
quite  grateful ;  but  Byrnes  cut  me  out  at  thS  singing 
school,  the  gift  of  the  apple  was  forgotten,  and  so  was  I. 
But  like  a  philosopher  I  endured  to  see  the  attachment 
strengthen  between  them  without  howling  about  "Re 
venge  !  "  or  enacting  any  other  melodramatic  absurdity.  I 


226  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

was  assured  by  my  venerable  relative  mentioned  above, 
that  there  was  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as  ever  were  caught ; 
and  rightly  applying  the  soothing  remark,  I  took  to  smok 
ing,  and  merely  puffed  a  little  more  vigorously  at  the  con 
tinual  evidence  of  Rymes's  triumph. 

That  she  was  beautiful  I  could  prove  by  a  daguerro- 
type  of  her  upon  my  memory,  —  not  heart,  but  memory,  — 
which  the  changes  of  time  and  circumstances  have  not 
dimmed.  The  only  difficulty  would  be  to  get  at  it,  and 
my  powers  of  description  are  somewhat  limited.  She  was 
a  fine  buxom  lass,  with  flesh  enough  upon  her  bones  for 
one  and  a  half  of  the  common  sort  of  women.  Her  cheeks 
were  of  the  most  unsentimental  cast,  —  red  and  glowing, 
—  her  hair  golden,  and  lay  in  curls  all  about  her  head,  and 
her  eyes  were  bewitching  —  of  an  indefinable  color,  for  it 
was  impossible  to  look  in  them  long  enough  to  detect  any 
thing  but  the  spirit  of  mischief  that  dwelt  in  them  —  that 
looked  through  their  half-closed  lids  like  a  sword  ready  to 
start  from  its  scabbard.  Her  complexion  was  white  and 
transparent,  and  her  shoulder  !  —  The  attempt  were  alto 
gether  vain  that  would  do  justice  to  charms  like  hers. 

And  Kymes  seemed  like  a  happy  man.  He  walked  the 
streets  gayly,  and  whistled  at  his  business,  which  was 
that  of  foreman  and  cutter  to  the  tailor  of  the  village, 
and  was  envied  and  quizzed,  and  laughed  at  to  any 
extent,  all  of  which  he  bore  with  cheerfulness,  because 
he  was  the  one  that  had  the  best  righ't  to  laugh  —  the 
winner. 

And  thus  matters  were,  when  the  ambition  that  plays 
such  havoc  with  the  young,  found  entrance  at  the  door  of 
Kymes's  heart,  and  he  thought  to  himself  that  the  position 
of  journeyman  tailor  in  a  small  town  was  not  a  very  high 
one,  and  he  thought  very  nearly  right,  resolving,  very  sen 
sibly,  that  he  would  leave  the  "  gay  and  festive/'  that  the 


THE  LETTER   OF  DISMISSAL.  227 

village  afforded,  and,  with  the  hope  of  winning  fortune 
and  Jennie,  go  to  some  big  city  where  he  could  have  room 
for  his  gigantic  ejaergies,  and  make  money,  and  get  mar 
ried.  Jennie  was  the  sunlight  that  warmed  his  ambition 
into  life,  her  smile  fringed  his  future  with  joyous  successes, 
her  voice  called  him  to  duty  in  the  big  world.  And  how 
true  they  were  both  going  to  be !  The  everlasting  hills 
might  melt  away  like  snow-flakes,  but  their  loves  should 
be  more  substantial  than  the  everlasting  hills,  and  would 
not  melt  away. 

Thus  they  parted. 

I  heard  from  those  acquainted  with  the  parties,  that  let 
ters,  warm,  glowing,  and  frequent,  passed  between  them  ; 
that  Byrnes  was  succeeding  beyond  his  expectations,  and 
predictions  were  rife  that  a  wedding  would  soon  take 
place.  About  a  year  after  he  left  the  town,  I  followed 
him,  and  by  queer  chance,  found  myself  in  the  same  city 
with  him,  and  beneath  the  same  roof.  The  lady  who  kept 
the  boarding-house  was  a  towns-woman  of  ours,  and  her 
hotel  was  the  natural  resort  of  people  of  our  place  who 
visited  the  city.  There  always  are  such  resorts  in  every 
city,  where  people  from  all  parts  of  the  world  meet  and 
smoke,  and  talk  with  friends  from  the  old  town  or  the  old 
country.  And  such  associations  keep  alive  our  home  sym 
pathies  and  love  for  early  scenes,  all  a  lifetime,  which,  but 
for  them,  might  have  died  out  or  grown  dim  in  the  damps 
and  fogs  of  earthly  care.  Those  quiet  reminders  of  home 
—  those  domestic  oases  in  the  great  waste  of  cities  —  are 
of  much  benefit,  and  the  homesick  are  drawn  towards 
them  instinctively  by  the  attractions  of  common  interest, 
to  find  there  some  motherly  old  heart  to  confide  in,  whose 
counsels  and  sympathies  come  to  the  disconsolate,  like  the 
dew  on  the  flowers,  giving  them  new  hope  and  new  strength 
in  the  encounter  of  life.  There,  too,  companionship  may 


228  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

be  renewed,  and  old  joys  be  discussed,  and  old  hopes  bo 
recalled,  verified  or  not  in  the  great  arena  of  Aftertime. 
There  are  those,  however,  who  take  no  .pleasure  in  such 
places,  and  have  no  attraction  there  —  who  are  hard-faced 
and  self-sufficient,  and  ask  no  sympathy  from  any.  Such 
may  be  thosQ  we  have  loved  as  boys,  and  we  feel  pained 
as  we  find  them  passing  b}r  us  in  the  street  without  sign 
of  recognition,  evincing  their  forgetfulness  of  the  scenes  in 
which  we  were  sharers,  and  all  because  the  old  boarding- 
house  down  in  some  dark  street  has  been  overlooked, 
where  the  lamp  of  loving  memory  is  kept  burning,  and 
where  the  ties  of  dear  companionship  remain  intact  and 
unbroken. 

"  Ah  !  my  boy,  how  are  ye  ?  "  said  a  voice  in  the  serene 
twilight  that  pervaded  the  little  parlor  of  the  boarding- 
house  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  that  I  had  arrived  by 
the  eastern  stage.  I  had  been  seized,  upon  my  arrival,  by 
the  landlady,  and  called  to  answer  a  thousand  questions 
about  the  old  place,  which  had  been  poured  upon  me  with 
such  volubility  that  I  was  rather  exhausted,  when  the  voice 
and  its  hearty  tone  came  with  a  sense  of  relief,  and  turn 
ing  round  hastily  I  recognized  Walter  Kymes.  But  how 
unlike  the  old-time  Walter  was  he  !  He  had  undergone  a 
metamorphosis,  to  be  sure.  He  was  dressed  in  the  height 
of  fashion,  his  hair  was  profusely  curled,  and  a  pair  of 
elaborate  whiskers  adorned  his  cheeks. 

He  shook  me  warmly  by  the  hand,  a'gain  and  again, 
asked  me  when  I  arrived,  and  when  I  was  going  away,  — 
the  invariable  sequence,  —  and  inquired  after  the  old  place 
very  affectionately.  I  answered  the  last  question  first,  and 
assured  him  that  every  thing  was  all  right. 

"  By  the  way,  Kymes,"  said  I,  "  I  saw  Jennie  yesterday. 
She's  just  as  charming  as  ever  —  blooming  as  a  rose — 
sweet  as  a  pink.  Ah,  you're  a  lucky  fellow  !  " 


THE  LETTER  OF   DISMISSAL.  229 

I  really  felt  that  he  was  a  lucky  fellow,  and  enforced  iny 
remark  with  a  touch,  just  above  the  waistband,  near  where 
anatomists  and  fact  locate  the  heart.-  He  colored  a  little, 
looked  down,  drew  a  line  on  the  faded  three-ply  carpet 
with  the  toe  of  his  glossy  boot,  but  made  no  reply.  I 
thought  this  very  strange,  but  imputed  it  to  modesty,  and 
the  tender  sentiment  that  allows  none  to  obtrude  upon  the 
sanctity  of  the  feelings,  and  made  no  further  remark  upon 
the  subject. 

I  found  Walter  a  great  favorite,  especially  among  the 
ladies  of  the  house.  He  was  gay  and  handsome,  —  two 
powerful  reasons  for  his  popularity,  —  and  I  soon  saw  that 
if  he  were  not  spoiled,  he  was  in  a  fair  way  to  be  spoiled. 
There  was  no  party  to  which  he  was  not  invited ;  he  was 
the  chaperon  of  fair  damsels  to  theatres  and  concerts,  to 
balls  and  suppers  he  was  a  welcome  addition,  and  every 
Sunday  he  slept  in  a  fashionable  church  in  the  most  ap 
proved  mode.  But  Walter  was  lacking,  I  soon  detected, 
in  the  substantial  element  of  sound  sense,  and  his  intel 
lectuality  was  not  of  the  order  that  characterized  a  Chan- 
ning"  or  a  Story,  for  profundity.  With  him  show  was 
every  thing,  and  the  tinsel  and  glitter  of  life  were  all  of  its 
gold. 

I  was  surprised  one  Sunday  morning  by  having  Walter 
take  me  by  the  button  in  a'  very  mysterious  manner,  and 
then,  after  looking  in  every  direction  to  see  that  there  were 
none  observing  him,  he  whisked  me  into  his  room,  and 
closed  his  door.  At  first  I  deemed  there  might  be  some 
danger,  seeing  that  he  removed  the  key,  and  placed  it  'in 
his  pocket,  hung  his  hat  upon  the  handle  of  the  door 
in  order  to  cover  up  the  key-hole,  and  took  other  precau 
tionary  steps  that  seemed  scarcely  called  for  under  ordi 
nary  pacific  circumstances ;  but  seeing  no  more  than  the 

usual  fire  in  his  eye,  I  ventured  to  ask, — 
20 


230  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"What's  the  row?" 

Putting  his  mouth  close  to  my  ear,  he  whispered,  — 

"Can  you  keep  a  secret?" 

I  assured  him  that  I  positively  thought  I  could,  and 
would  give  him  evidence  of  it  if  he  confided  in  me,  Bind 
ing  myself  by  any  penalty  he  might  propose. 

"  Well,  then,"  he  began,  pulling  his  chair  in  front  of 
mine,  and  bending  forward,  "  you  remember  my  little  affair 
with  Jennie ;  you  spoke  of  her  the  day  we  met.  7Twas 
a  pleasant  little  affair  enough  when  I  was  there ;  but  faith, 
there  are  so  many  attractions  pulling  all  ways  here,  that 
such  rustic  emotions  must  change,  you  know.  To  tell  the 
truth,  I've  got  tired  of  Jennie  —  tip-top  girl,  and  all  that ; 
but,  3Tou  know,  she's  rustic  as  the  doose." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  somewhat  surprised,  "  what  next  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  fact  is,  my  dear  boy,"  continued  he,  "  I  want 
to  write  her  a  letter,  breaking  off  the  little  engagement 
between  us ;  but  I  don't  know  exactly  how  to  go  about 
it.  I  want  to  express  for  her  the  warmest  friendship,  but 
to  regard  the  old  love  passage  between  us  as  nothing  more 
than  a  mere  childish  whim.  I  want  to  do  it  so  that  it  may 
not  break  her  heart,  for  I  don't  wish  to  injure  the  poor 
thing." 

I  could  scarcely  refrain  from  laughing  in  his  face,  but 
kept  my  countenance,  and  answered  him  that  if  he  wanted 
such  a  letter  written  he  had  better  write  it. 

"  That's  just  it ;  I  want  to,  but  don't  "know  how.  Now 
I  believe  you  can  do  it,  and  if  you  will,  I  shall  consid 
er  myself  very  much  your  debtor.  You  will  —  won't 
you?" 

I  could  not  resist  such  importunity;  so  I  drew  up  to  the 
little  yellow  painted  table,  with  which  every  boarding- 
house  is  supplied,  and  he,  placing  his  chair  next  to  mine, 
glanced  over  my  shoulder,  whilst  I  wrote  as  follows :  — 


THE  LETTER   OF   DISMISSAL.  231 

"BOSTON,  June  1, 18—. 

"Miss  LAUREL:  It  is  a  painful  task  that  I  have  to  per 
form,  involving  as  it  does  much  that  is  regretted  by  myself, 
and  much  that  I  fear  will  be  offensive  to  you,  affecting,  as 
it  docs,  essentially,  the  pleasant  relations  that  have  so  long 
subsisted  between  us.  The  feeling  of  attachment  that  we 
encouraged,  I  have  found,  upon  mature  examination,  to 
be  but  a  childish  sentimentalism,  rather  than  love,  which 
should  be  rightly  understood,  in  order  that  we  may  assume 
our  true  position  towards  each  other.  I  have  therefore 
thought  best  to  write  you  this,  expressing  my  warmest  ad 
miration  for  you  as  a  woman  —  the  enjoyment  of  whose 
friendship  I  shall  always  prize  as  the  brightest  page  of  my 
life's  history,  and  the  continuance  of  which,  as  friendship, 
I  should  prize  above  rubies.  Wishing  for  you  the  choicest 
Blessings  in  life,  I  remain 

"Yours,  very  unworthily, 

"  WALTER  BYMES." 

I  submitted  it  to  him,  and  he  read  it  over  as  well  as 
he  could,  for  my  chirography  was  not  of  the  Duntonian 
school,  pronouncing  it  a  very  fine  letter,  and  assuring  me 
that  he  could  scarcely  refrain  from  weeping  as  he  read  it. 
But  that  was  all  in  his  eye.  He  locked  it  up  carefully  in 
the  drawer  of  the  little  yellow  table,  and  we  went  down 
stairs.  I  saw  by  the  appearance  of  things  that  there  was 
some  fun  afloat.  A  broad  grin  rested  upon  the  faces  of 
all  the  boarders,  and  several  positive  winks  gave  me  to 
understand  that  there  was  a  secret  resting '  among  them 
somewhere  that  was  aching  to  get  out. 

"  So  Kymes  has  told  you  his  secret  ? "  said  one,  when 
Walter  had  gone. 

"  Yes/'  said  I ;  "  but  what  do  you  know  about  it  ?  " 


232  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 

"  As  much  as  you  do,"  said  he  ;  "  he  has  told  it  to  every 
one  in  the  house." 

Another  one  coming  up,  —  a  jolly  dog,  —  chucked  me 
under  the  ribs,  and  in  a  mysterious  m aimer  begged  me  not 
to  tell  that  secret  to  any  living  being !  I  found  it  was 
really  known  to  all  in  the  hous'e,  but  said  nothing. 

Walter  copied  my  letter,  adopting  his  own  orthography 
in  many  instances,  but  preserving  the  phraseology  very 
generally,  and  with  the  ^  same  mystery  that  had  attended 
its  conception,  I  was  called  to  look  it  over.  I  saw  it  ad 
dressed,  and  deemed  that  now  my  share  in  the  business 
was  at  an  end.  That  night  I  received  a  letter  from  our 
town,  calling  upon  me  to  come  home  for  a  particular  pur 
pose,  and  as  the  letter  had  not  been  sent,  I  volunteered  to 
carry  it.  I  accordingly  became  the  bearer  of  despatches, 
and  all  the  way  during  the  sixty  miles  that  I  rode  in  the 
stage,  I  was  imagining  how  the  letter  would  be  received, 
preparing  myself  for  a  fainting  fit  or  two,  and  reproaches, 
and  tears,  and  the  usual  scenes  attendant,  as  per  romances, 
on  sundered  ties  and  broken  vows. 

I  called  upon  Miss  Jennie  Laurel  as  soon  as  I  arrived, 
and  was  received  as  an  old  friend  should  be.  She  threw 
her  arms  around  my  neck  and  kissed  me  with  a  warmth 
that  gave  my  conscience  a  twinge  for  my  complicity  in  the 
guilty  letter  which  still  reposed  in  my  pocket. 

"  And  so  you  are  a  Boston  fellow !  "  said  she,  feeling  of 
the  quality  of  my  coat  as  she  spoke,  and  inspecting  me 
from  top  to  toe. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "and  I  board  with  Walter  Eymes.  I 
have  a  letter  for  you  in  some  of  my  pockets." 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  she,  clapping  her  hands,  "  that's  prime  ;  he 
is  such  a  fool,  and  we  always  have  fine  fun  with  his  letters. 
I  always  show  them  to  the  girls." 

"  Indeed ! "  said  I ;  "  then  you  must  care  a  great  deal  for 
him." 


THE  LETTER   OF  DISMISSAL.  233 

"  Care  for  him !  Why,  I  never  cared  for  him  except  as  a 
walking-stick." 

"  Here  is  his  letter,"  said  I,  extending  the  missive. 

She  took  it  and  began  to  read,  and  I  could  see  her  eye 
sparkle  as  she  proceeded ;  but  what  the  particular  emotion 
was,  —  whether  of  grief  or  anger,  —  I  could  not  determine. 
At  last  she  screamed  out  with  a  gushing  laugh,  as  musical 
as  a  summer  brook. 

"  JTis  a  letter  of  dismissal.  Oh  !  it  is  delightful  —  the 
only  sensible  letter  he  ever  wrote  me  in  his  life." 

I  thought  her  cold-hearted,  and  I  found  that  my  former 
passion  had  lost  its  power  over  me. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "  you  must  carry  my  answer  back,  and 
I  hardly  know  what  to  say,  either.  I  wish  I  could  get  you 
to  write  a  few  lines  for  me." 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  I,  laughing  at  the  oddity  of  writ 
ing  an  answer  to  my  own  letter,  and  taking  out  my  pencil, 
wrote  as  follows  :  — 

"  RIVER  BRINK,  June  5. 
"MB.  WALTER  EYMES. 

"  Sir  :  Yours  received.     Such  a  step  as  you  have  taken 
was  quite  necessary  on  the  part  of  one  of  us,  as  I  am  to 
be  married  on  Wednesday  next.     Your  friendship  would 
be  no  more  agreeable  than  your  love. 
"  I  am;  sir, 

"JENNIE  LAUREL." 

She  read  over  what  I  had  written,  blushed  a  little,  smiled 
a  little,  and  whispered,  — 

"  If  you  had  said  Sunday  instead  of  Wednesday,  you 
would  have  come  nearer  the  truth/7 

"  Indeed !  "  said  I,  surprised ;  and  then  she  told  me  the 
story  of  an  immense  ship  carpenter,  \vho  had  been  court- 

20* 


204  PARTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

ing  her  as  powerfully  as  only  a  ship  carpenter  can.  court, 
for  six  months,  and  that  she  had  consented  to  marry  him 
on  the  next  Sunday  night,  the  only  difficulty  in  the  way 
being  her  connection  with  Walter,  and  she  feared  his  heart 
would  break  to  lose  her.  His  letter  came  very  opportune 
ly,  and  she  was  happy  to  be  released  from  the  fear  of  caus 
ing  him  evil,  even  at  the  expense  of  her  pride. 

She  copied  the  letter,  and  I  carried  it  to  Walter,  and  he 
enjoyed  the  triumph  of  the  dismissing  party.  Jennie  was 
married  at  the  time  she  named,  moved  down  east,  and  be 
came  the  mother  of  a  large  family  of  good-natured  chil 
dren.  Walter  left  our  house  soon  after,  and  I  lost  sight 
of  him  for  many  years.  One  day,  about  three  years  since, 
while  passing  up  State  Street,  I  heard  my  name  called  by 
a  very  ordinary  looking  fattish  man,  slightly  grizzled,  whom 
I  did  not  at  once  recognize. 

"  What,"  said  he,  "  don't  know  Rymes  ?  —  don't  remem 
ber  the  letter  of  dismissal  ?  " 

I  shook  him  by  the  hand,  and  inquired  regarding  his 
welfare. 

"  All  right,"  said  he  ;  "got  married,  and  made  money  by 
it  —  needn't  do  a  stitch  of  work  again  as  long  as  I  live." 

"  Are  you  happy  in  your  marriage  relations  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  There,"  said  he,  in  a  whisper,  "  is  just  where  the  shoe 
pinches ;  and  if  it  wasn't  for  the  confounded  relations  by 
marriage,  I  should  get  along  very  well." 

"  Mr.  Rymes !  "  screamed  a  shrill  voice";  and  looking  in 
the  direction  from  whence  it  came,  I  saw  an  obese  look 
ing  woman,  very  slatternly  and  last-yearly  in  fashion,  beck 
oning  my  friend  towards  her  with  a  faded  parasol. 

"  You  will  please  excuse  me,"  said  he  ;  "  my  wife  is  call 
ing  me.  We  live  out  of  town.  Come  and  see  us.  She 
will  be  delighted  to  get  acquainted  with  you.  You  will 
like  her  —  but  —  have  you  a  mother-in-law  ?  " 


MY  FEIEND'S  SECRET.  235 

Before  I  had  a  chance  to  reply  he  was  again  summoned 
by  the  shrill  voice,  and  shaking  my  hand  violently,  he 
darted  away,  harely  escaping  the  wheels  of  a  coal-cart  that 
was  going  along. 

Poor  Byrnes  !  I  never  saw  him  again,  hut  I  heard  soon 
after  that  he  was  dead ;  and  I  could  not  help  suspecting 
that  that  mother-in-law  was  somehow  responsible  for  his 
demise. 


MY  FRIEND'S  SECRET. 

I  FOUND  my  friend  in  his  easy  chair, 

With  his  heart  and  his  head  undisturbed  by  a  care; 

The  smoke  of  a  Cuba  outpoured  from  his  lips, 

His  face  like  the  moon  in  a  semi-eclipse  j 

His  feet,  in  slippers,  as  high  as  his  nose, 

And  his  chair  tilted  back  to  a  classical  pose. 

I  marvelled  much  such  contentment  to  see  — 

The  secret  whereof  I  begged  he'd  give  me. 

He  puffed  away  with  re-animate  zest, 

As  though  with  an  added  jollity  blest. 

"  I'll  tell  you,  my  friend,"  said  he,  in  a  pause, 

"  What  is  the  very  '  identical '  cause. 

"  Don't  fret !  —  Let  this  be  the  first  rule  of  your  life  ;  — 

Don't  fret  with  your  children,  don't  fret  with  your  wife  ; 

Let  every  thing  happen  as  happen  it  may, 

Be  cool  as  a  cucumber  every  day  ; 

If  favorite  of  fortune  or  a  thing  of  its  spite, 

Keep  calm,  and  believe  that  all  is  just  right. 


236  PAKTIXGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  If  you're  blo\vn  up  abroad  or  scolded  at  home, 
Just  make  up  your  mind  to  let  it  all  come ; 
If  people  revile  you  or  pile  on  offence, 
'Twill  not  make  any  odds  a  century  hence. 
For  all  the  reviling  that  malice  can  fling, 
A  little  philosophy  softens  the  sting. 

"  Run  never  in  debt,  but  pay  as  you  go ; 
A  man  free  from  debt  feels  a  heaven  below ; 
He  rests  in  a  sunshine  undimmed  by  a  dun, 
And  ranks  'mid  the  favored  as  A  No.  1. 
It  needs  a  great  effort  the  spirit  to  brace 
'Gainst  the  terror  that  dwells  in  a  creditor's  face. 

"  And  this  one  resolve  you  should  cherish  like  gold, 
—  It  has  ever  my  life  and  endeavor  controlled,  — 
If  fortune  assail,  and  worst  comes  to  worst, 
And  business  proves  bad,  its  bubbles  all  burst, 
Be  resolved,  if  disaster  your  plans  circumvent, 
That  you  will,  if  you  fail,  owe  no  man  a  cent." 

There  was  Bunsby's  deep  wisdom  revealed  in  his  tone, 
Though  its  depth  was  hard  to  fathom  I  own ; 
"  For  how  can  I  fail,"  I  said  to  myself, 
"If  to  pay  all  my  debts  I  have  enough  pelf?" 
Then  I  scratched  my  sinciput,  battling  for  light, 
But  gave  up  the  effort,  supposing  'twas  right ; 
And  herein  give  out,  as  my  earnest  intent, 
Whenever  I  fail  to  owe  no  man  a  cent. 


THE  WIFE  CUKER.  237 


THE  WIFE  CURER. 

up  in  the  country  ?  "  I  queried,  as  I  met  my 
friend  Burner  in  the  street  a  few  days  since.  I  hadn't 
seen  him  for  some  time,  and  he  looked  browned  and  very 
rough,  as  if  he  had  been  exposed  to  the  country  sun.  He 
informed  me  that  he  had,  and  that  he  had  been  to  visit 
Tim  Somers,  a  mutual  friend  of  ours,  who  had  moved  away 
from  town  many  years  before.  After  inquiries  concerning 
his  visit,  and  his  enjoyment  during  the  warm  months,  con 
versation  reverted  to  our  old  friend.  t 

"  I  never  was  more  surprised  in  my  life,"  said  Burner, 
"  than  I  was  to  see  him  in  the  depot  at  Ramshead.  I  had 
quite  forgotten  that  he  was  located  there." 

I  informed  him  that  I  had  also  forgotten  it,  though  I  be 
lieved  his  wife's  relatives  were  living  there. 

"  His  wife's  —  yes,  yes,"  continued  Burner  ;  "  singular 
woman  that !  Did  you  know  her  ?  " 

"Yes,"  I  replied;  "she  is  a  little,  bustling,  talkative 
thing,  full  of  fun  and  chat,  and  making  her  house  merry  by 
the  music  of  her  voice.  Nice  little  woman ! " 

Burner  looked  at  me  a  moment,  and  burst  into  a  laugh, 
to  my  great  wonderment.  I  requested  him,  in  a  tone  of 
chagrin,  to  inform  me  what  the  deuse  he  was  laughing  at. 

"  Talkative ! "  said  he,  when  he  could  check  in  his 
cachinnatory  colt ;  "  I  found  her  any  thing  but  that,  I  tell 
you.  I  never  knew  the  lady  when  she  lived  in  town ;  but 
a  more  taciturn  body  I  never  saw  than  I  found  her." 

"  Indeed ! "  I  remarked ;  "  then  there  must  have  been  a 
change,  truly.  Tell  me  about  it." 

I   met   Somers   upon  my  arrival  in  the  depot,  and  he 


238  PAETINGTOKIAN  PATCHWORK. 

was  very  glad  to  see  me,  inquiring  after  his  old  friends, 
and  you  with  the  rest.  Through  all  his  joy,  however,  I 
saw  that  there  was  a  vein  of  sadness ;  and  when  I  alluded 
to  his  family,  he  appeared  embarrassed,  and  disposed  to 
change  the  subject.  I  had  no  object  in  view  in  visiting 
Bamshead,  other  than  the  change  of  scene,  and  did  not 
intend  to  remain  there  more  than  a  day  or  two ;  but  meet 
ing  Somers  led  me  to  think  that  it  would  not  be  a  bad 
thing  to  tarry  there  a  while,  seeing  that  there  was  a  beau 
tiful  pond  of  water  in  the  vicinity,  as  I  had  seen  from  the 
car  as  I  came  along,  and  a  deep  wood,  denoting  game. 
Somers  used  to  be  great  on  those  things,  you  know.  I 
hinted  at  our  former  sporting  practices,  and  mentioned  my 
half  resolution  to  stay;  but  instead  of  manifesting  any  in 
terest  in  the  subject,  he  sighed  deeply,  and  replied,  — 

"  Burner,  I  haven't  taken  a  pole  in  my  hand  nor  put  a 
gun  to  my  shoulder  for  five  long  years,  and  I  never  shall 
again." 

I  looked  at  him  with  astonishment,  but  I  knew  that  he 
was  sincere.  I  fancied  that  I  saw  a  tear  in  his  intelligent 
eye,  and  my  heart  drew  stronger  towards  him  than  ever. 
I  then  quite  resolved  to  stay,  and  ordered  the  porter  of  the 
hotel  to  carry  my  baggage  —  my  valise  and  gun  —  up  to 
the  house,  which  was  close  by.  My  rod-cane  I  carried  in 
my  hand.  Taking  Somers  on  my  arm,  we  followed  the 
porter;  and  a  few  moments  later  found  us  seated  in  my 
room,  with  a  little  rummer  of  claret  negus  between  us  — 
an  excellent  lubricator  for  a  dusty  day. 

"  Well,  how  are  you  prospering,  Somers  ?  "  I  inquired, 
wishing  to  penetrate,  if  possible,  the  mystery  that  en 
shrouded  him,  deeming  that  it  might  be  some  business  dif 
ficulty  in  which  he  was  involved. 

"  Doing  capitally,"  he  replied ;  "  haven't  lost  a  dollar 
since  I  came  here.  People  have  nicknamed  me  '  Lucky 
Tom.'  How  wrongly  people  judge  in  measuring  men  ! " 


THE  WIFE   CUKEB.  239 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  said  I,  as  I  saw  the 
cloud  creep  over  his  face,  as  you  have,  while  standing  on 
the  mountains,  seen  a  shadow  flitting  across  the  meadow. 

"I  mean,"  said  he,  "that  in  measuring  us,  they  take  but 
one  feature  into  the  account,  and  upon  that  base  an  hy 
pothesis  of  happiness,  or  luck,  as  the  case  may  be." 

"  Are  you  not  happy  ?  "  I  asked,  in  a  tone  calculated  to 
win  his  confidence. 

"  I'  am  far  from  it,"  he  replied ;  "  indeed,  a  more  misera 
ble  man  is  not  to  be  found  in  these  parts." 

"  In  what  regard  ?  " 

"  My  wife  is  dumfe,"  he  almost  sobbed,  in  answer  to  my 
question. 

"Dumb?"  I  repeated;  and,  thinking  to  rally  him,  said, 
in  a  jocular  manner,  "  Well,  that  is  a  very  singular  thing  to 
be  sad  for!  I  know  many  husbands  who  would  be  too 
happy  to  have  such  a  calamity  happen  to  them.  Burns 
says,— 

"  '  An  auld  wife's  tongue's  a  feckless  matter; ' 

and  there's  no  contention  in  a  house  where   a   perpetual 
silence  is  the  bond  of  unity." 

I  saw  that  he  was  hurt,  and  hastened  to  remedy  the  evil 
I  had  done.  Taking  him  by  the  hand,  I  said,  — 

"Tom,  I  assure  you  I  would  not  wound  your  feelings 
willingly.  I  am  no  less  your  friend  than  I  ever  was,  and 
no  less  worthy  your  confidence.  Now,  I  wish  you  to  tell 
me  the  cause  of  your  trouble,  that  I  may  share  it  with 
you,  or  possibly  alleviate  it." 

He  hesitated  a  few  moments,  and  then  said,  with  con 
siderable  emotion,  — 

"Well,  Burner,  old  friendship  is  stirring  within  me,  and  • 
I  shall  do  at  its  prompting  that  which  I  thought  nothing 
could  wring  from  me.     You  remember  how  happy  I  was. 


240  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

There  was  not  a  man  in  the  world  who  had  more  friends, 
true  friends,  than  I  had.  My  home  was  a  happy  one  — 
my  wife  pleasant,  my  children  handsome  and  intelligent. 
You  never  saw  my  wife,  Burner  ?  " 

My  name  in  the  connection  sounded  like  an  impreca 
tion  upon  his  wife,  and  the  Burner  a  wrathful  explosive  — 
"  burn  her."  Somers  continued :  — 

"When  we  moved  up  here,  things  went  on  in  pretty 
much  the  same  pleasant  way,  until  there  came  to  the  vil 
lage  a  lady  whom  I  had  formerly  known,  and  about  whom 
and  myself  there  had  been  a  Jittle  gossip  in  old  days.  Our 
acquaintance  was  renewed,  and  I  visited  her  several  times  ; 
made  no  cpncealment  of  my  intimacy  with  her,  and  invited 
my  wife  to  accompany  me,  but  she  declined.  .  She  wished 
to  make  no  new  acquaintances,  she  said.  There  was  a  fre 
quent  visitor  at  my  house,  a  relative  of  my  wife's,  who 
poisoned  her  ears  with  suspicions  that  it  was  not  right  be 
tween  May  Brennon  and  myself.  She  repeated  the  old 
gossip,  with  additions,  spoke  of  my  visits  to  Miss  Brennon, 
and  hinted  at  criminality,  as  that  foul-minded  class  al 
ways  will,  who,  having  small  virtues  of  their  own,  conjure 
up  impure  conceits  regarding  their  neighbors,  imputing 
wrong  where  the  strictest  purity  might  not  see  occasion  to 
blush.  I  was  returning  home  one  summer  evening  on  foot, 
having  spent  the  day  in  business  at  a  town  a  few  miles 
from  this,  when,  by  a  strange  chance,  a  short  distance  from 
town,  I  met  Miss  Brennon.  It  was  ptfre  accident  that 
brought  us  together,  and  she  turned  back  with  me,  taking 
my  arm.  We  walked  slowly,  as  the  weather  was  warm, 
and  stopped  a  moment  on  the  rustic  bridge  yonder  to  look 
down'  into  the  stream,  and  say  a  few  pleasant  words  about 
old  times.  I  saw  some  one  pass  by  us  as  we  stood  there, 
but  was  indifferent  as  to  whom  it  might  be,  and  bidding 
my  companion  good  by,  I  went  home  as  happy  as  a 


THE  WIFE  CURER.  241 

in  anticipation  of  meeting  the  ones  there  that  I  loved  so 
well.  I  met  with  a  cold  reception.  My  bane  was  sitting 
with  my  wife  in  council,  and  I  read  judgment  on  the  face 
that  had  too  many  times  lately  turned  unkindly  to 
wards  me. 

"  So  you've  come,  Mr.  Hypocrite,  have  you?"  was  the 
first  salutation. 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,  I  have  come,"  I  replied,  "  though  I 
can  scarcely  see  reason  for  the  application  of  the  name 
to  me." 

"  You  cannot !  You  who  have  just  left  that  vile  crea 
ture,  on  whose  account  and  in  whose  company  you  have 
all  day  been  absent  from  your  home  !  You  cannot ! " 

"  I  have  been  away  all  day  on  business,"  I  said,  as  calm 
as  Socrates.  "I  was  returning  home,  and  encountered 
Miss  Brennon.  We  walked  together  a  little  way,  and 
then  I  left  her  for  my  pleasant  home,  and  certainly  did  not 
expect  such  a  reception." 

"  You  did  not ! "  said  she,  sneeringly ;  "  but  you  are 
found  out,  sir !  You  stood  upon  the  bridge  with  your 
arm  around  the  strumpet's  waist,  and  kissed  her  ! " 

I  felt  aroused  at  this.  I  can  bear  any  attack  upon  my 
self,  but  the  reflection  upon  Miss  Brennon  was  too  much 
for  me,  who  knew  her  pure  character  and  exalted  worth. 

"  It  is  a  falsehood ! "  I  shouted,  "  and  your  informant  is 
a  malicious  and  malignant  falsifier !  " 

The  relative  gathered  herself  up  to  go ;  but  before  she 
went,  I  gave  her  a  lesson  on  lying  and  tale-bearing  that 
she  has  not  forgotten  yet.  She  has  never  crossed  my  door 
since.  As  soon  as  she  was  gone,  I  turned  to  my  wife,  and 
said;  — 

"  As  for  you,  madam,  if  you  cannot  make  a  better  use 
of  your  tongue,  you  had  better  never  speak  again." 

I  was  heated,  in  a  passion,  and  scarcely  knew  what  I 
21 


242  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

said;  but  the  unkind  words  entered  into  her  soul.  I  left 
the  house,  and  did  not  return  for  a  long  time.  I  found  her 
calmly  and  undisturbedly  sitting  where  I  had  left  her,  but 
she  spoke  not.  She  arose,  and  performed  such  duties  as 
were  required  of  her,  but  she  did  not  speak.  Vainly  I 
addressed  her :  she  made  no  reply.  I  grew  alarmed.  I 
begged  her  to  speak  to  me,  but  not  one  word  would  she 
deign  me.  It  has  continued  thus  ever  since.  Not  one 
word  has  she  uttered  to  me  or  any  one.  My  home  is 
dismal  as  a  tomb,  or  I  would  have  invited  you  there." 

He  ceased  his  story,  and  I  told  him  how  much  it  had 
interested  me. 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  have  you  tried  no  remedy  to  cure  this 
disease  ?  for  disease  it  must  be." 

He  told  me  that  he. had  not. 

"  Then,"  said  I,  "  take  me  home  with  you,  and  if  I  don't 
cure  her,  strike  the  spurs  from  my  heel  as  an  unworthy 
knight." 

I  went  home  with  the  poor  fellow,  and  found  things 
pretty  much  as  he  had  represented.  I  was  introduced  to 
the  mistress  of  the  mansion,  who  received  me  with  a  pro 
found  bow. 

"  A  delightful  home,  madam,  this  of  yours  ? "  said  I, 
glancing  admiringly  out  of  the  window. 

I  looked  towards  her,  as  though  expecting  a  reply.  She 
merely  nodded  her  head. 

"Are  there  many  such  in  this  vicinity,  among  the 
hills  ?  "  I  persisted,  looking  her  in  the  face. 

She  colored,  as  though  she  were  confused.  I  found  sub 
sequently  that  I  was  the  first  stranger  that  he  had  dared 
to  take  home  for  several  years.  I  saw  by  her  organism 
that  she  was  not  naturally  a  bad  woman,  and  divined  at 
once  that  she  had  vowed  perpetual  silence  at  the  unkind 
words  of  her  husband,  and  that  it  needed  but  a  single 
word  to  break  the  spell  which  rested  upon  her. 


THE  WIFE  CUKEK.  243 

I  continued  my  engineering,  making  all  manner  of  do 
mestic  inquiries  regarding  the  children,  of  whom  she  ap 
peared  very  fond,  but  could  not  elicit  a  word  from  her.  I 
next  alluded  to  her  husband  and  our  old  acquaintance,  and 
in  the  course  of  my  remarks  made  some  reflections,  in  a 
playful  way,  upon  the  slight  blemish  in  one  of  his  eyes  — 
the  only  fault  in  his  really  handsome  face.  I  saw  a  shad 
ow  of  chagrin  rest  upon  her  browj  and  a  moment  after, 
when  I  praised  him,  a  pleased  expression  effaced  the  cloud. 

"  Aha  !  "  said  I  to  myself ;  "  here  are  pride  and  affec 
tion,  at  any  rate ;  these  springs  have  not  dried  up,  and  I 
think  that  language  may  yet  be  unsealed." 

A  day  passed,  but  nothing  transpired  save  manoeuvres. 
I  have  never  tried  so  hard  to  make  myself  attractive  as  on 
this  occasion,  and  felt  that  I  had  succeeded,  when  on  the 
second  morning  she  greeted  me  with  a  smile,  and  extended 
her  hand  to  me  as  I  came  from  my  chamber.  I  chatted 
and  rattled  on  about  the  town  and  its  splendors,  told  of 
new  improvements,  changing  fashions,  crinoline*  and  lovely 
bonnets,  all  of  which  was  listened  to  with  evident  interest. 
Still  she  wouldn't  speak,  confound  it !  I  trembled  for  my 
spurs.  Something  must  be  done. 

"  Mrs.  Somers,"  said  I  very  suddenly,  "  will  you  allow 
me  to  look  at  the  palm  of  your  hand  ?  " 

She  extended  her  hand  very. readily,  and  I  gazed  upon 
it  as  though  I  were  a  wizard  engaged  in  some  trick  of 
necromancy  involving  the  fate  of  the  household.  Looking 
in  her  face,  I  relinquished  her  hand  and  sighed  deeply. 
She  appeared  surprised,  and  seemed  as  if  expecting  me  to 
say  something. 

"  You  may  well  be  surpised  at  my  conduct,"  I  said, 
"but  your  surprise  would  be  overwhelming  could  I  dare 
tell  you  the  motive  o£  it.  I  cannot  do  this  without  com 
promising  others.  I  may  say,  however,  that  in  your,  hand 


244  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

« 

I  discern  a  power  that  may  be  employed  for  immense 
good.  There  are  lines  in  it  that  meet  and  diverge,  and 
come  near  together  again  without  meeting.  There  is  a 
mystery ! "  I  looked  at  the  hand  again,  rubbed  my  fore 
head  as  though  I  were  much  perplexed,  and  went  out  ab 
ruptly.  I  saw  her  face  depicted  in  the  glass  as  I  passed 
out,  and  it  bore  the  expression  of  great  wonder. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  top  of  Rattlesnake  Hill,  Somers  ?  " 
I  asked,  at  dinner  time,  as  we  sat  at  table. 

"  About  fifteen  miles  ;  why  ?  "  he  replied,  and  asked. 

"Because  I  am  going  there  to-night.  I  must  be  there  .at 
precisely  midnight.  I  am  'going  to  gather  a  charm  from 
the  old  Battler's  cave,  through  which  I  hope  to  obtain  a 
treasure  that  will  compensate  for  all  trouble  and  danger." 

"  You  cannot  go,"  said  he,  anxiously ;  "  the  way  is  one 
of  peril.  It  is  full  of  ravines  and  pitfalls,  and  the  serpents 
are  very  numerous." 

I  saw  that  his  wife  shared  in  his  uneasiness,  and  her 
looks  said,  "  Don't  go  !  "  plainer  than  words  could  speak. 

"  So  much  the  better  for  my  purpose,"  said  I ;  "  were  it 
not  attended  with  danger,  that  which  I  seek  would  be 
valueless.  I  shall  go;  and  more  than  this,  I  shall  walk." 

Somers  and  his  wife  exchanged  looks,  which  I  interpreted 
to  mean,  "  "Well,  isn't  he  a  queer  one  ? "  and  after  a  few 
moments  at  table  I  left  the  house,  telling.  Somers  that  I 
should  be  back  by  the  morning.  I  accordingly  struck  out 
stoutly  for  Rattlesnake  Hill,  accompanied  by  his  uttered 
blessing  and  his  wife's  inarticulate  benison  ;  but  when  I 
reached  the  first  brook,  I  made  my  cane  into  a  jointed  fish 
ing  rod,  and  indulged  till  sundown  in  very  fine  sport. 
The  trout  never  bit  with  more  avidity  ;  and  having  caught 
a  goodly  string,  I  carried  them  to  a  farm-house  not  far 
away,  and  had  them  cooked  for  my  supper.  Late  in  the 
evening  I  returned  to  my  friend  Somers's,  and  enjoyed 


THE  WIFE   CUBER.  245 

a  fine  night's  rest  upon  his  haymow.  At  daylight  I 
aroused  the  family  by  knocking  at  the  door ;  but  I  greeted 
them  with  a  simple  shake  of  the  hand,  gazing  abstractedly 
at  Mrs.  Somers.  She  looked  troubled. 

"  Somers/'  said  I,  "  please  leave  me  a  moment  with  your 
wife.  It  is  a  matter  that  you  may  some  time  know,  but 
not  at  present.  Have  you  not  heard  of  my  wonderful 
development  as  a  seer?  " 

He  said  he  had  not,  but,  without  explaining,  I  pushed 
him  out  and  closed  the  door.  I  knew  that  he  would  listen, 
however. 

"  Mrs.  Somers,"  said  I,  "  my  mysterious  movements  are 
fast  growing  to  a  climax.  I  last  night  plucked  a  dragon's 
tongue  from  the  mouth  of  the  rattlesnake's  den  ;  I  laughed 
with  the  midnight  echoes,  and  stood  face  to  face  with  the 
darkness,  in  order  to  gain  what  I  sought.  Your  hand, 
please  ;  thank  you.  The  lines  are  brought  nearer  to 
gether,  and  it  needs  but  one  word  of  yours,  in  response  to 
an  incantation  that  I  shall  utter,  to  make  my  mystic  charm 
complete.  You  must  say,  Yes,  or  all  is  as  nought." 

I  looked  wildly  as  I  spoke,  and  I  saw  that  she  was,  as  it 
were,  spell-bound. 

"  And  this  is  my  incantation,"  I  continued  j  "  you  swear 
that  you  hate  Tom  Somers." 

"No  !"  she  almost  shrieked. 

Poor  Tom  had  been  listening.  Fearing  harm  to  his 
wife  from  my  supposed  lunacy,  and  hearing  the  question  I 
had  put,  and  the  response,  he  rushed  in,  frantic  with  joy, 
clasped  her  in  his  arms,  kissed  her  over  and  over  again, 
and  jumped  about  the  room  with  the  wildness  of  a  mad 
man.  She  did  not  seem  to  comprehend  what  she  had 
done  for  an  instant,  but  when  she  remembered  that  she 
had  spoken,  and  divined  the  meaning  of  my  cabalistic 

efforts,  she  came  near  fainting  with  her  emotion. 
21* 


246  PAHTINGTONTAN  PATCH WOEK. 

"  Tliank  God  !  the  spell  is  broken  !  "  said  she,  "  the  hid 
eous  spell  that  has  bound  me  to  silence  and  sorrow  so 
long." 

"  The  mystical  word  having  been  spoken,"  said  I,  "  that 
brought  the  diverging  lines  together,  I  am  free  to  tell  what 
I  sought  at  midnight  on  Rattlesnake  Hill." 

"  What  was  it  ?  "  they  both  asked  in  a  breath. 

"  A  woman's  tongue  ! "  I  replied  ;  "  and  since  I  have 
found  it,  never  allow  any  trifling  cause  to  silence  it  again." 

My  theory  was  correct  with  regard  to  her  not  speaking. 
She  had  vowed  perpetual  silence,  and  had  kept  -her  vow 
until  brought  to  utter  one  word,  by  stratagem,  which 
had  unsealed  her  tongue  again.  The  children  were  de 
lighted,  and  ran  all  around  the  neighborhood  telling  every 
body  that  their  mother  could  talk,  and  everybody  rushed 
in  to  ascertain  what  it  meant.  For  a  time  it  seemed  as 
though  anarchy  and  confusion  had  become  installed  on 
Tom  Somers's  hearthstone,  to  make  up  for  the  silence  that 
had  so  long  brooded  there,  but  he  bore  it  all  good-lm- 
moredly.  I  left  them  a  week  afterwards,  the  happiest  couple 
you  ever  saw,  and  my  midnight  excursion  to  Rattlesnake 
Hill  was  frequently  alluded  to. 

"Did  you  really  go  there?"  Mrs.  Somers  asked,  the 
morning  before  I  came  away. 

"No  ! "  said  I,  imitating  her  emphatic  accent  of  the  same 
monosyllable  in  reply  to  my  incantation,  and  we  had  a 
grand  laugh  about  it ;  Tom  Somers  swearing  that  my  seer- 
ship  was  the  best  ever  known,  and  my  magic  had  wrought 
a  happier  effect  than  that  of  all  the  fairies  he  had  ever  seen 
exhibited  at  the  theatre.  . 

"  Good  by,"  said  Burner,  as  lie  finished  his  story,  and  he 
left  me  well  satisfied  with  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
spent  his  vacation. 


GOUT.  247 


GOUT: 

A    SUBDUED     CASE. 

DEAR  NANNIE,  place  my  easy  chair, 
And  give  my  foot  the  proper  square  — 
Be  careful  how  you  touch  it !  —  THERE  !  — 

That  pang,  just  past, 
Might  cause  an  anchorite  to  swear, 

Nor  risk  his  caste. 

And  now  my  pen  with  acrid  sting 
And  ink  of  verjuice  hither  bring, 
That  I  may  GOUT'S  demerits  sing 

In  limped  strains ; 
A  theme  ignored  —  a  baleftil  thing  — 

It  prompts  my  pains. 

My  muse  is  no  ecstatic  sprite, 
To  lead  me,  wildered,  out  of  sight, 
And  breathe  ineffable  delight 

In  bird-like  lays  ; 
Than  this  I  try  no  higher  flight 

To  win  my  baize. 

But  how  describe  the  pain  and  ache  — 
The  surging,  burning,  shooting  shake  ; 
The  wrench,  the  rend,  the  twist,  the  break, 

The  anguish  deep, 
The  while  dire  demons  hold  a  wake 

To  murder  sleep ! 


248  PAETINGTONTAN  PATCHWORK. 

Milton  has  writ  of  Purgatory, 
And  Pollek  a  more  lurid  story, 
And  Dante  raised  h — eat  con  amore, 

But  mine  the  worse, 
Compared  with  which  their  highest  glory 

?S  not  worth  a  curse. 

But  hold  !  my  pet  canary  there 
Sings  from  his  perch  a  gentle  air, 
Regarding  me  with  tender  care  — 

In  fear,  'twould  seem, 
His  looks  might  fall  on  me  somewhere, 

To  make  me  scream. 

Entranced  I  listen  —  pen  suspent  — 
To  him  strange  fascination  lent, 
And  his  sweet  song,  the  air  besprent, 

Thus  seems  to  say  — 
The  while  from  me  his  eye  intent 

Turns  not  away  :  — 

"  You  surely  make  a  great  to-do 
Ahout  this  thing  that  troubles  you, 
All  selfishly  forgetting,  too, 

The  pain  you  make  ; 
Be  just  a  bit  to  reason  true, 

For  manhood's  sake. 

"And  don't  you  see,  my  muddled  friend, 
Great  good  from  pjreat  ill  may  descend  ? 
And  anguish,  that  the  heart  doth  rend, 

May  give  a  birth, 
Of  grandest  offices  the  end, 

And  priceless  worth  ? 


GOUT.  249 

"So  this  same  gout  that  you  revile, 
Though  painful,  doubtless,  for  a  while, 
May  prove  at  last  the  creaming  oil 

—  The  thought  is  valid  — 
That  makes  antagonisms  smile  .* 

In  life's  great  salad. 

"•  But  for  this  gout  would  you  have  known 
The  myriad  favors  to  you  shown  — 
The  kindly  hearts  to  you  have  flown, 

Attentions  dear, 
The  atmosphere  of  love  outthrown 

To  give  you  cheer  ? 

"  How  friends  have  pressed,  with  smiling  lips, 
Freighted  with  fruits,  like  orient  ships, 
To  lighten  up  your  joy's  eclipse, 

While  here  you  groan  ; 
And,  from  electric  finger-tips, 

Hope's  seeds  have  sown  ! 

"  What  gives  that  crutch  its  magic  power 
To  call  more  spirits  than  G-lendower  ? 
You'd  hammer  like  a  thunder  shower, 

I  greatly  fear, 
Did  sympathy  not  ope  a  door 

Through  which  to  hear. 


o 


"  A  most  ungrateful  churl,  at  best, 
You  will  nor  reason  manifest ; 
Inside's  a  demon  more  a  pest 

Than  this  without ; 
Disturbance  of  the  spirit's  rest 

Is  worse  than  gout. 


250  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 

"  Then  stop  complaint,  and  be  a  man ; 
Be  true,  and  your  tormentor  scan, 
And  ask,  May  it  not  be  a  plan 

Your  faults  to  snub  ? 
•"Perhaps  in  them  it  all  began, 

And  there's  the  rub." 

The  song  here  ceased.     I  dipped  my  pen, 
But  all  the  spite  had  left  me  then, 
And  simply  shouting  out,  "  Amen  !  " 

I  gave  it  o'er  ; 
Sure  ne'er  a  bird  to  mortal  ken 

Sang  so  before. 


THE   VENEKABLE    SLEDGE. 

WHEN  the  Venerable  Sledge  joined  the  Tweedleville 
Church  there  was  a  sensation.  He  had  been  set  down  as 
one  of  the  hardest  headed  and  hardest  hearted  among  the 
inevitably  doomed  ;  and  though  he  had  done  well  by  the 
church,  and  helped  support  it,  they  had  long  since  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  Venerable  Sledge  could  not  be 
pointed  to  as  a  living  light  illustrative  of  the  efficacy  of  their 
labor.  It  was  told  of  him  that  at  one  time  a  committee 
was  appointed  to  wait  on  him  and  expostulate  with  him 
on  some  practices  that  would  not,  they  conceived,  help  him 
to  any  moral  elevation.  He  met  them  with  a  smile,  invited 
them  to  take  a  little  something  for  the  stomach's  sake,  — 
which  I  am  happy  to  say  they  declined,  —  listened  to  all 
they  had  to  say,  and  without  replying,  asked  them  if  a  cer- 


THE  VENEKABLE  SLEDGE.         251 

tain  pew  that  he  named  was  for  sale,  sending  them  back 
with  the  assurance  that  he  thought  he  should  buy  that 
pew,  which  he  did. 

The  Venerable  Sledge  joined  the  church,  and  though 
those  who  knew  him  best  did  not  see  any  very  particular 
change  in  him,  his  new  associates  were  aware  of  a  wonder 
ful  transformation.  His  jokes  in  which  he  still  occasionally 
indulged,  were  no  longer  the  fruit  of  levity,  but  of  inno 
cent  playfulness,  and  his  laugh,  which,  before  his  joining, 
was  the  outward  expression  of  some  unclean  spirit,  now 
was  the  ebullition  of  a  cheerful  temper. 

There  was  a  picnic  in  a  grove,  gotten  up  for  the  delecta 
tion  and  benefit  of  the  small  fry  of  the  parish,  and  the  old 
were  all  invited  to  give  counsel  to  the  young  by  pres 
ence  and  by  word ;  and  they  all  went,  the  Venerable  Sledge 
among  them.  It  was  delightful  to  see  him  trudging  to 
wards  the  depot  with  his  capacious  basket,  and  his  coat 
pockets  full  to  repletion  with  good  things.  Even  the  dogs 
loo"ked  pleased  as  he  went  along,  and  turned  and  followed 
him  a  few  steps,  as  if  looking  for  an  invitation,  and  then 
ran  away,  licking  their  chaps,  and  undoubtedly  regretting 
that  they  belonged  to  some  other  parish.  The  picnic  was 
a  great  affair.  The  sponge-cake  and  doughnuts  were  the 
lightest  that  ever  were  made,  but  the  speeches  were  very 
heavy,  —  at  least  the  children  thought  so,  —  and  the  day 
passed  nominally  happy,  though  in  reality  all  that  thought 
any  thing  about  it,  as  ever  since  picnics  were  invented,  said 
to  themselves  it  was  a  bore,  to  be  tolerated,  however,  for 
the  sake  of  the  children. 

The  Venerable  Sledge  thought  for  a  long  while  that  he 
was  happy.  He  promenaded,  and  swung,  and  played  Co 
penhagen  with  a  truly  delightful  temper,  but  at  last  his 
laugh  was  forced,  and  his  legs  were  weary ;  his  patience 
gave  out,  and  a  large  black  ant,  crawling  up  one  of  his  feet 


252  PAETINGTOXIAN  PATCHWORK. 

handles,  broke  him  down  completely.  He  vowed  he  never 
would  be  caught  in  a  like  scrape  again.  I  should  like  to 
know  one  who  has  npt  made  the  same  resolution,  and  I 
should  like  to  know  one  who  has  ever  kept  it. 

In  a  mood  far  from  placid,  with  his  hands  thrust  deep 
down  into  his  pockets,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  keep  some 
thing  from  jumping  out,  the  Venerable  Sledge  roamed  about 
like  a  perturbed  spirit,  whistling,  "Ever  be  happy"  —  an 
injunction  in  wide  contrast  with  his  real  feelings.  The  day 
had  seemed  very  long  to  him,  but  he  knew  it  must  come 
to  an  end  —  he  had  never  known  one  to  keep  more  than 
twenty-four  hours  —  and  the  reflection  had  a  touch  of  joy 
in  it.  A  voice  accosted  him. 

"Mr.  Sledge,"  said  the  Seductive  Deacon  Tung,  touch 
ing  his  arm  ;  "  we  are  about  taking  up  a  contribution  for 
our  Sunday  School,  and  would  like  to  have  your  name  for 
a  five  spot." 

"Make  it  ten,"  said  Sledge,  in  a  very  demonstrative 
way. 

"  Oh,  thank  you  !  "  replied  Tung ;  "  he  that  giveth,  you 
know,  lendeth,  and  so  forth." 

"  What-  building  is  that  ?  "  asked  the  Venerable  Sledge, 
for  the  first  time  observing  a  very  long  building  near,  that 
he  had  not  seen  before,  with  windows  all  along  the  sides ; 
"  is  it  a  ropewalk  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ! "  said  the  Seductive  Deacon,  smilingly ;  "  and  I 
am  surprised  to  hear  you  ask  such  a  question  —  that  is 
a  bowling  alley." 

"  And  now  I  am  floored,"  said  the  Venerable  Sledge ; 
"pray  tell  us  what  bowling  is  —  is  it  any  thing  like  this?  " 
—  making  his  hand  as  near  like  a  wine-glass  as  he  could, 
and  pretending  to  drink. 

"  Bless  you,  no,"  replied  the  Seductive  Deacon  Tung ; ' 
"  it  is  a  very  innocent  and  harmless  amusement  and  exer- 


THE  VENERABLE  SLEDGE.          253 

cise,  called  by  many  ninepins.  There  are  really  ten  pins, 
though  originally  nine,  the  tenth  being  introduced  to  evade 
a  ridiculous  law  that  proscribed  ninepins.  Let  us  see  if  we 
cannot  get  in,  and  I  will  show  you." 

He  went  to  the  house  near  by,  and  returned  with  the  key. 
the  Venerable  Sledge  taking  a  deep  interest  in  the  pro 
posed  lesson. 

"  'Tis  played  with  balls  —  is  it  ?  "  said  he,  as  he  tried  to 
get  hold  of  one  of  the  big  balls,  which  seemed  to  evade 
his  grasp  and  slip  from  his  fingers. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Seductive  Deacon  Tung,  "  the  pins  are 
set  up  on  the  boards  yonder.  We  stand  at  this  end  of  the 
alley,  and,  throwing  the  balls,  knock  down  as  many  of  the 
pins  as  we  can,  and  those  who  knock  down  the  most  win 
the  game." 

The  Venerable  Sledge  looked  at  the  Seductive  Deacon 
and  the  man  that  owned  the  alley,  who  had  come  in  hop 
ing  to  get  a  quarter,  and  then  at  the  board,  and  then  he 
tried  to  lift  the  ball  again,  making  awkward  work  of  it. 

"  If  you  think  there'd  be  nothing  wrong  in  it,"  said  the 
Venerable  Sledge  to  the  Seductive  Deacon,  "  I  think  I 
should  like  to  roll  just  once;  not  if  there's  any  harm  in  it, 
you  know.  I  believe  I  could  knock  all  the  pins  down  at  a 
lick." 

They  did  look  tempting,  for  the  man  had  stood  up  the 
pins  like  a  little  army,  and  there  they  were  as  if  challen 
ging  the  prowess  of  the  Venerable  Sledge  and  the  Seduc 
tive  Deacon  Tung.  The  deacon  said  he  did  not  consider 
there  would  be  the  least  harm  in  it,  and  proposed  that  they 
should  roll  just  for  sport,  the  one  who  knocked  down  the 
least  to  pay  twenty-five  cents  for  the  use  of  the  alley. 

The  Venerable  Sledge  selected  a  ball,  at  first  spitting 
on  his  hand ;  then  he  moved  first  one  way  and  then  the  other 
way,  stooping  down  and  standing  up,  closing  one  eye  and 

22 


2«;4  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

opening  the  other,  thrusting  out  his  tongue,  and  showing 
all  signs  of  nice  calculation.  At  last  he  drew  a  line  on 
the  pins ;  but  the  ball  sheered,  and  he  made  a  positive  fail 
ure  of  it,  much  to  his  mortification  ;  the  next  time  he  hit 
the  outside  pin  with  such  vehemence  that  he  came  nigh 
driving  it  through  the  end  of  the  building ;  the  next  time 
he  succeeded  in  bringing  down  two. 

"  My  eyes  !  "  said  he,  when  he  had  done ;  "  it  looked  easy 
enough." 

The  Seductive  Deacon  carefully  selected  his  ball,  took 
his  position,  gave  a  short  run,  and  a  large  portion  of  the 
pins  went  by  the  board ;  the  other  throw  was  alike  success 
ful,  and  the  third  as  much  so,  proving  the  Seductive  Dea 
con  the  winner. 

"  You  are  an  old  player  at  it,  I  guess,"  said  the  Venera 
ble  Sledge,  paying  the  man  the  quarter,  with  evident  mor 
tification  on  his  countenance. 

"  I  have  played  some,"  replied  the  Seductive  Deacon. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Venerable  Sledge,  "  I  believe  I  can  do 
better  next  time.  Now,  if  you  will  roll  to  see  who  shall 
pay  the  whole  that  we  have  subscribed  to  the  Sunday 
School  fund,  I  am  ready  to  do  it.  What  say  ?  " 

The  Seductive  Deacon  smiled,  for  there  was  a  strong 
temptation  in  the  proposition.  It  would  be  an  easy  way 
to  liquidate  his  subscription,  and  secure  the  same  "benefit 
to  the  school  as  though  he  paid  it  himself.  Besides,  it 
would  be  a  transaction  between  themselves,  and  it  would 
teach  the  Venerable  Sledge  a  lesson.  He  would  see  by 
his  loss  the  truth  of  the  Orphic  saying,  — 

"  Children  and  fools 

Mustn't  play  with  edge  tools." 

"  I'll  do  it,"  said  he  after  a  little  hesitancy,  "  though  I 
am  afraid  you  risk  a  little  too  much.  Shall  I  roll  first  ?  " 


THE   VENERABLE   SLEDGE. —Page  255. 


THE  VENERABLE  SLEDGE.  255 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Venerable  Sledge ;  "  and  then  I  can  see 
how  you  do  it." 

They  took  their  stand  —  the  Seductive  Deacon  still  smil 
ing  in  a  very  self-satisfied  manner,  justifying  himself  on  the 
plea  that  the  end  sanctifies  the  means.  He  made  three 
excellent  hits,  bringing  down  nearly  all  the  pins  every 
time.  At  last  it  came  the  turn  of  the  Venerable  Sledge. 
He  took  up  the  ball  awkwardly,  poised  it  as  though  it  were 
a  hundred  pound  shell  and  he  were  afraid  of  its  exploding  ; 
then  his  muscles  grew  very  rigid,  his  lips  compressed,  his 
eye  was  wonderfully  clear,  and  the  ball  went  from  his  hand 
like  an  arrow  to  its  target,  sweeping  down  every  pin  at  the 
first  sweep. 

"A  ten  strike!"  said  the  Venerable  Sledge  with  won 
derful  familiarity  with  the  terms  of  the  alley:  "Two 
spares." 

He  looked  at  the  Seductive  Deacon,  who  stood  in  blank 
astonishment,  as  though  he  were  floored  as  completely  as 
the  pins  had  been. 

"  I  think,"  said  the  Seductive  Deacon,  faintly,  "you  must 
be  an  old  player." 

The  Venerable  Sledge  only  replied  by  throwing  another 
ball  with  the  same  result,  as  if  to  clinch  the  matter,  and 
then  they  rejoined  the  picnic  —  the  Seductive  Deacon  Tung 
satisfied  that  he  had  made  an  ass  of  himself.  He  paid  the 
subscription,  but  never  thought  the  Venerable  Sledge's 
moral  quality  was  any  better  than  his  own,  though  he 
never  said  much  about  it. 


256  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


A    HORSE-CAE,    INCIDENT. 

No  matter  what  horse-car,  but  it  happened  that  I  had 
to  go  a  mile  or  two,  and  held  up  my  cane  to  attract  the 
attention  of  the  driver  or  the  conductor  of  one  of  them, 
which  I  did  after  some  difficulty.  I  am  bound  to  say  it 
was  not  on  the  Touchandgo  road,  for  the  officers  employed 
there  have  an  instinctive  knowledge  whether  a  man  wishes 
to  ride  or  not,  and  indeed  often  by  the  magic  of  the  up 
raised  finger  they  draw  people  in  to  ride  who  had  hardly 
any  previous  intention  of  it.  I  have  been  attracted  in  this 
way,  and  found  myself  to  my  astonishment,  seated  in  the 
car,  confident  that  I  had  signified  no  disposition  to  do  so. 
In  this  instance,  however,  I  would  ride,  and  got  in. 

There  were  the  usual  passengers  in  the  car  —  the  respec 
table  people  going  out  of  town,  who  were  reading  the 
last  editions  of  the  papers,  the  women  who  had  been 
shopping,  the  servant  girls  who  had  been  in  to  visit  their 
friends,  feeling  no  interest  in  one  another,  and  all  absorbed 
in  their  own  reflections,  as  I  was.  I  was  thinking  serious 
ly,  when — my  eye  was  attracted  by  some  glittering  ob 
ject  on  the  floor,  beneath  the  opposite  seat. 

Of  course  everybody  is  attracted  by  glitter.  A  piece  of 
glass  in  the  moonlight  may  be  a  diamond,  .and  show  is  far 
ahead  of  substance  in  influencing  men,  from  the  illusion 
which  affects  short-sighted  vision.  Thus  this  glittering 
object.  What  was  it  ?  —  a  diamond  pin  dropped  by  a 
former  passenger?  No,  it  could  not  be  this,  because  it 
appeared  to  be  round,  and  bigger  than  a  pin  stone  could 
be.  Could  it  be  a  bracelet  ?  No,  for  it  was  too  small.  I 
directed  my  gaze  more  earnestly  towards  it  in  my  doubt, 


A  HORSE-CAK   INCIDENT.  257 

and  saw  that  it  was  a  QUARTER,  bright  and  sparkling  with 
the  freshness  of  new  mint  about  it,  so  it  seemed. 

This  I  determined  to  make  mine*  at  the  first  chance,  for 
a  woman  was  sitting  very  near  it,  and  I  dreaded  any  con 
fusion  I  might  cause,  by  a  sudden  plunge,  through  the  mo 
tion  of  the  cars ;  so,  whistling  at  a  low  breath,  as  if  indif 
ferent,  but  keeping  my  eye  upon  the  prize,  I  awaited  the 
opportunity  that  should  insure  me  the  coveted  one-and- 
sixpence.  It  soon  came  :  the  bell  rang,  and  the  lady  op 
posite,  with  her  arms  full  of  bundles,  walked  out,  leaving 
the  object  of  my  ardent  regard  more  distinctly  in  view. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  every  one  in  the  car  had  an  eye  on 
that  quarter,  which  I  felt  was  mine  by  right  of  discovery, 
and  which  I  was  determined  to  have. 

As  the  coach  started  I  rose  and  fairly  tumbled  over  into 
the  just-vacated  seat,  taking  care  to  drop  in  such  a  way  as 
to  screen  the  glittering  bait.  I  looked  at  my  fellow-pas 
sengers,  and  found  that  all  were  staring  at  me,  as  though 
they  were  reading  my  secret.  The  conductor  had  come 
inside  the  door,  and  was  looking  at  me,  and  a  heavy  gen 
tleman  on  the  same  seat  with  me  leaned  far  out  on  his 
cane,  so  that  he  could  take  in  my  whole  person  with  his 
glance,  as  though  I  were  a  piece  of  property  on  which  he 
had  to  estimate.  I  felt  my  face  burn,  and  a  general  dis 
comfort  seized  me,  a.s  a  man  sometimes  feels  when  he  has 
done  a  wrong  or  a  foolish  act ;  though  I  couldn't  think  the 
act  I  was  about  to  perform  was  wrong,  and  no  one  could 
say  it  was  foolish  in  one  to  try  to  get  a  quarter  of  a  dol 
lar  in  this  day  of  postal  currency.  At  length  I  stooped 
down  as  if  to  adjust  something  about  my  boot,  and  slipped 
the  object  of  my  solicitude  into  my  hand,  unseen,  as  I  be 
lieved. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  conductor. 

"  What's  what  ?  "  said  I,  with  affected  smartness. 

22* 


258  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

"  What  you  just  found,"  lie  persisted. 

"  I  was  pulling  my  pants  down  over  my  boot,"  I  pre 
varicated. 

"  That's  all  humbug,"  said  he  ;  ft  you  found  something 
in  the  car,  and  it  belongs  to  the  company." 

"  Prove  that  I  found  any  thing,"  said  I,  angrily. 

"Young  man,"  said  the  voice  of  the  big  man  who  was 
leaning  on  his  cane,  still  looking  at  me,  "  it  is  as  bad  to 
lie  about  a  thing  as  it  is  to  steal.  I  saw  you  pick  some 
thing  up,  and  to  me  it  had  the  appearance  of  money."  He 
struck  his  cane  on  the  floor  as  he  spoke,  and  grasped  it 
firmer,  as  if  to  clinch  his  remark. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  conductor  ;  "  and  we  don't  want  nothing 
of  the  kind  here,  and  what's  more,  we  won't  have  it ;  so 
hand  over." 

"  My  fine  fellow,"  said  I,  prepared  for  a  crisis,  "  I  know 
my  rights,  and,  without  admitting  that  I  have  found  any 
thing,  I  contend  that  if  I  had,  in  this  public  conveyance, 
which  is  as  public  as  the  street  to  him  who  pays  for  a  ride 
in  it,  that  which  I  find  in  it  is  mine  after  I  have  made  due 
endeavor  to  find  out  its  owner.  Money  being  an  article 
impossible  to  identify,  unless  it  is  marked,  if  I  had  found 
it,  it  would  have  been  mine  —  according  to  Whately,  Ly- 
curgus,  and  Jew  Moses." 

"  Hang  your  authorities,"  said  he ;  "I  don't  know  any 
thing  about  'em,  but  this  I  know,  —  that  money  belongs 
to  the  Touchandgo  Horse  Railroad  Company,  and  I'll  have 
it.  Ain't  I  right,  Mr.  Diggs?"  addressing  a  gentleman 
With  glasses  on,  reading  the  Journal. 

"  I  think  you  are,"  replied  he,  looking  at  me  over  the 
top  of  his  spectacles,  as  though  he  were  shooting  from  be 
hind  a  breastwork ;  "  I  think  the  pint  is  clear,  and  that  it 
belongs  to  the  company  to  advertise  it  and  find  out  the 


A  HOESE-CAE  INCIDENT.  259 

"  Well,"  I  put  in,  "  suppose  they  don't  find  the  owner ; 
who  has  it  ?  " 

"  The  company,  I  should  think/'  said  he,  folding  his  pa 
per  preparatory  to  getting  out. 

"  That's  it,"  said  the  conductor,  taking  up  the  thread  as 
he  put  the  passenger  down ;  "  and  now  I  want  that  money." 
He  looked  ugly. 

"  What  money  ?  "  I  queried. 

"  The  money  you  picked  up  on  the  floor." 

I  saw  that  I  was  in  a  place  of  considerable  difficulty,  in 
volving  a  row  on  one  side  and  imputation  of  villany  on 
the  other,  and  studied  how  to  escape. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "if,  in  spite  of  the  authorities  I  have 
quoted,  you  insist  upon  my  giving  this  up  which  I  hold  in 
my  hand,  —  the  value  of  which  I  do  not  know, —  I  shall 
protest  against  your  act,  and .  hold  the  company  responsi 
ble." 

"  Responsible    be  blowed,"   .replied  he,  severely ; 

"  shell  out," 

The  people  in  the  car  were  much  excited.  The  fat  man 
on  the  seat  had  risen  up,  though  still  in  sitting  position, 
and  balanced  himself  upon  his  toes  to  get  a  better  view. 
I  unclosed  my  hand  and  deposited  in  the  conductor's  a 
round  piece  of  tin  that  had  been  punched  out  by  some  tin 
man  and  hammered  smooth,  bearing  a  close  resemblance 
to  money ! 

The  disappointment  of  every  one  was  intense.  The 
conductor  intimated  that  if  he  met  me  in  society  he  would 
give  me  my  money's  worth,  the  fat  man  muttered  some 
thing  about  my  being  an.  "imposture,"  several  lady  passen 
gers  looked  bluely  at  me,  and  only  one  laughed  heartily  at 
the  whole  affair,  as  I  did.  It  was  a  queer  incident. 


260  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOBK. 


THE   OLD   RED  EAR. 

THOU  'mind'st  me  of  the  festal  night 
When,  though  the  stars  were  shut  from  sight, 
The  fleet  hours  winged  with  footsteps  light, 

To  pleasure's  note, 
And  mirth  and  song  put  care  to  flight 

To  realms  remote. 

Ah,  sweet  the  picture  thou  dost  hring  ! 
Reseated  in  that  magic  ring, 
We  round  the  circle  deftly  swing, 

As  then  we  swung ; 
While  every  way  the  husks  we  fling 

The  crowd  among. 

And  merry  joke  and  repartee 
Dart  to  and  fro  with  noisy  glee, 
And  speech  unloosed  finds  accent  free 

From  mirthful  lips, 
As  sweet  as  roses  that  the  bee 

Delighted  sips. 

Dim  is  the  lantern's  dusky  glow 

Upon  the  cereal  heaps  below, 

But  bright  the  wit  in  ceaseless  flow, 

And  bright  the  gleam 
Of  eyes,  above  the  gloom  that  throw 

A  brighter  beam. 


THE  OLD  BED  EAR.  261 

The  old  grow  young  again  to  mark 
The  sounds  that  shatter  in  the  dark, 
Where  boys  and  girls  in  playful  lark 

Their  bent  attain, 
And  fun,  like  an  electric  spark, 

Smacks  out  amain. 

Ah,  crimson  ear !  thou  led'st  me  through 
A  scene  I'd  fain  again  renew, 
That  e'en  to  ponder  in  review, 

By  memory's  beam, 
Enchants  me  till  I  sadden  to 

Dispel  the  dream. 

What  precious  rights  didst  thou  impart ! 
How  soon  I  learned  them  all  by  heart ! 
How  did  my  pulse  in  tumult  start, 

As  thou,  revealed, 
Didst  prove  a  key,  whose  dexterous  art 

E-are  sweets  unsealed ! 
• 

Ah,  every  kernel  is  a  tongue 
That  speaks  me  back  those  scenes  among ; 
Through  Time's  back  door,  wide  open  swung, 

A  sight  I  see, 
Of  flowers  of  joy,  at  random  flung,     t 

No  more  for  me. 

But  such  is  doom,  and  such  is  best ; 
And  older  hearts  should  seek  for  rest, 
Nor  in  such  fancy  stocks  invest 

As  husking  bouts ; 
They  are  for  youth,  'tis  manifest  — 

The  elders  "  outs." 


262  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 


EXPERIENCES   OF  A   LAME   MAN. 

MY  fall  on  the  ice  last  winter  and  the  dislocation  of  my 
hip  were  attended  by  evils  of  a  serious  nature,  and  they 
have  followed  me  ever  since  —  the  great  pain  that  attend 
ed  the  hurt  being  followed  —  as  my  wife  who  is  a  joker 
has  it  —  by  the  great  payin'  of  the  incidental  bills  that 
seem  to  grow  stronger  every  day,  though  it  is  now  the 
mosquito  and  fly  season,  when  the  seasonable  bills  are 
superadded.  I  but  yesterday  received  one  from  Dr.  Bolus 
to  this  effect,  written  in  a  style  of  calligraphy  unsurpassa 
ble  for  its  obscurity :  — 

MR.  DODBLEDASH  TO  DR.  BOLUS.  DR. 

To  setting  one  hip $15.00 

"  two  months'  medical  attendance -  .     .  50.00 

"  medical  attendance  at  office 10.00 

Received  Payment,  $75.00 

«The  bill  was  handed  in  by  the  doctor's  collector,  and  after 
some  trouble  we  deciphered  it.  The  setting  a  hip  was 
at  first  construed  to  mean  setting  a  hen,  the  medical  at 
tendance  musical  attending,  and  the  third  charge,  appear 
ing  to  be  a  frantic  attempt  at  Sanscrit,  was  too  much  for 
us,  saving  the  amount,  which  was  remarkably  distinct. 
The  luxury  of  disease  has  to  be  very  severely  paid  for  — 
the  immediate  need  of  a  doctor  shutting  out  all  idea  of 
after  payment,  and  the  bill  comes  in  upon  our  convales 
cence  like  an  Alpine  avalanche  of  snow  upon  a  summer 
valley.  In  war  as  in  sickness  the  same  rule  holds.  We 
need  armies,  and  ships,  and  munitions,  and  we  order  them 
regardless  of  the  bill  that  will  one  day  come  in  for  them, 
that  is  to  be  paid.  » 


EXPERIENCES    OF  A  LAME   MAN.  203 

I  said  at  the  outset  that  the  evil  thus  begun  has  ever 
since  followed  me.  Though  every  one  of  my  friends  knew 
very  well  howl  became  lame  —  that  with  my  customary 
gallantry  I  turned  aside  from  the  icy  path  to  admit  of  the 
passage  of  a  crinoline  of  nearly  the  diameter  of  a  load  of 
hay,  and  slipping  fell,  as  Caesar  fell  at  the  base  of  Pom- 
pey's  statue  —  still  insinuations  were  rife,  and  nods  and 
finger  ends  made  mischief  whenever  the  affair  was  men 
tioned,  subjecting  me  to  great  annoyance.  I  was  beset 
with  importunities  to  sign  the  pledge,  grave  people  with 
white  chokers  stopped  me  in  the  street  on  very  slight 
acquaintance,  and  cautioned  me  as  to  the  tendency  of  hab 
its  whose  indulgence  was  unworthy  a  Christian  gentle 
man,  and  a  tract  entitled  the  "Drunkard's  Doom,"  was 
put  into  my  hands  as  I  stood  at  the  door  of  my  own  hired 
house,  by  a  woman  with  a  blue  nose  and  red  spectacles, 
or  vice  versa,  as  I  was  too  much  angered  to  remark  dis 
tinctly  which.  It  was  in  vain  I  repelled  the  insinuations. 
I  was  met  with  a  sickly  sort  of  pitying  smile,  and  the  re 
mark,  "Yes,  yes,  we  know  —  they  all  say  so,"  and  in 
their  minds  insincerity  was  added  to  the  original  offence. 
It  has  always  been  a  proud  stand  for  me,  and  which  I  have 
taken  in  a  spirit  of  moral  defiance,  that  a  name  not  well 
enough  grounded  to  be  proof  against  malicious  attacks 
was  not  worth  maintaining ;  but  here  I  have  found  myself 
emphatically  floored. 

And  these  annoyances  have  been  more  than  counter 
balanced  by  the  sympathy  I  have  excited  in  the  minds  of 
tender-hearted  people  who  have  jumped  at  the  conclusion 
that  I  am  a  wounded  soldier.  Many  a  sympathetic  look 
have  I  received,  many  a  sympathetic  word,  on  this  suppo 
sition,  and  have  felt  all  the  while  as  a  conscientious  scoun 
drel  might  be  supposed  to  feel  who  is  receiving  goods 
under  false  pretences.  One  lady  in  the  horse-cars  one  da"y 


'2G4  PARTING  TONIAX  PATCHWORK. 

asked  me,  in  a  very  tender  tone,  where  I  received  my 
wound.  I  felt  some  delicacy  about  answering  the  ques 
tion,  not  knowing  whether  she  meant  the  particular  bat 
tle  where  it  was  received,  or  the  locality  of  the  wound. 
I  came  to  a  consciousness  of  her  meaning  in  time  to  say 
"  Hackmetack  Court,"  when  she  made  a  note  of  it  in  order 
to  consult  some  map. 

I  have  been  consulted  repeatedly  regarding  the  con 
struction  of  ambulances,  and  the  location  of  hospitals,  from 
my  supposed  familiarity  with  them ;  and  with  that  weak 
ness,  if  I  may  call  it  so,  that  desires  consideration,  I  have 
given  my  opinion  with  some  freedom,  involving  no  con 
fession  of  how  my  Wound  was  received,  it  being  taken  for 
granted  that  it  was  in  gallant  service,  as  it  undoubtedly 
was.  I  have  been  an  object  of  unbounded  admiration  to 
the  boys,  who  have  invested  me  with  all  sorts  of  dignities 
and  indignities,  and  I  have  overheard  remarks  —  as  boys 
are  not  over  and  above  troubled  with  caution,  or  regard 
for  the  feelings  of  others  —  that  have  made  my  blood  tin 
gle,  and  my  hand  grasp  my  cane  with  the  impulse  that  I 
would  like  to  beat  the  young  rascals  —  "  Go  it,  yer  crip 
ple  !  "  being  a  favorite  objurgation  from  their  indecent  lips. 
I  was  invited,  by  the  authorities  of 'a  city  I  visited  on  the 
Fourth,  to  sit  on  the  platform  as  one  of  the  Union  soldiers. 
I  could  scarcely  persuade  them  that  I  had  no  claim  to  such 
distinction. 

But  the  greatest  annoyance  that  has  happened  to  me  in 
consequence^  of  my  limp,  was  while  I  was  on  a  visit  to 
Spunkville,  remarkable  for  its  patriotic  proclivities.  It  was 
late  in  the  afternoon  when  I  got  off  at  the  station,  and  I 
became  aware  of  the  presence  of  a  large  crowd  of  people 
—  larger  by  far  than  was  to  be  expected  in  so  small  a 
place  —  and  immediately,  as  I  limped  along  the  platform, 
I  was  the  observed  of  all  observers.  Something  which  I 


EXPERIENCES   OF   A  LAME  MAN.  265 

could  not  understand  was  said  by  some  one,  when  a  shout 
went  up  that  made  the  welkin  ring.     The    crowd   surged 
towards  me,  shouting  in   a  most  boisterous  manner,  and 
then  I  got  it  through  my  head  that  the   shouting  and  the 
crowd  were  for  me.     Could  it  be  possible,  I  thought,  that 
my  humble  name  had  attained  the  degree   of  celebrity  to 
entitle  me  to  any  such  consideration?     It  was  explained 
a  moment  after  by  a  little  gentleman,  who   bustled  before 
me  and  taking  a  manuscript  from  his  pocket  began  to  read 
a  welcoming  address,  styling  me  "  Colonel  Frink,"  and  as 
suring  me  that  my  deeds  had  preceded  me,  and  my  name 
associated  with  patriotic  daring  had  endeared   me   to   the 
land,  therefore  the  people  had  come  out  to  receive  me  and 
give  me  a  heart-offering  of  grateful  regard.     He  beckoned 
to  the  people  as  he  spoke,  and  they  responded  by  a  shout 
that   eclipsed'  in   volume    and   unanimity   all    their   other 
shouting.     Before  he  had  a  chance  to  begin  a  new  para 
graph,  I  begged   to  assure  him   that  I  was   not  Colonel 
Frink,  that  I  never  had  been  in  battle,  though  I  greatly 
regretted  that  I  had  not  been,  in  order  to  be  entitled  in 
some  small  degree  to  the  ovation m which  had  greeted  me. 
A  voice  in  the  crowd  at  this  cried  out,  "  Where' d  you  get 
yer  game  leg,  then  ?  "  to  my  horror  and  disgust.     I  saw  in 
an  instant  where  the  mistake  lay,  and  felt  that  I  was  in  a 
hobble.     The   little   man  who   had   addressed   me    turned 
coldly  away,  and  the  people  who   gave   me   so  warm   a  re 
ception  grew  instantly  cool,  regarding  me  evidently  as  an 
impostor,  and,  as  I  thought,  meditated  some  personal  vio 
lence  for  the  part  in  deceiving  them  that  I  had  innocently 
taken.     I  overheard  the  remark  of  one  sturdy  citizen  that 
I  was  "  an  infernal  humbug ;  "  and  as  I  thought  I  saw  in 
the  eye  of  the  multitude   any  thing  but  a  kind  spirit,  I 
left  as  speedily  as  possible  for  the  hotel.     The   arrival  of 
the  real  colonel  by  the  next  train  diverted  attention  from 
23 


266  PAKTISTGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

me,  and  I  escaped  with  merely  my  alarm.  I  subjoin  the 
local  item  from  the  Spunkville  Bayonet,  that  chronicled 
my  advent  in  the  article  describing  the  "  Keception  of 
Colonel  Frink:"  — 

"  At  this  point  [the  arrival  of  the  train  in  which  I  was]  when  ex 
pectation  was  at  its  height,  a  tall,  gaunt,  weasel-faced  individual 
stepped  upon  the  platform,  whose  limping  gait  attracted  the  notice 
of  the  crowd,  that  cheered  boisterously  for  their  supposed  guest. 
The  impostor  received  the  attention  with  all  the  impudence  in  the 
world,  and  displayed  brass  enough  to  supply  any  demand  for  that 
article.  Our  respected  fellow-townsman,  Stubbs,  laid  bare  the  decep 
tion,  and  the  swindler  sneaked  away  with  the  execration  of  the  crowd. 
A  more  flagitious  attempt  to  delude  a  patriotic  people  never  was  prac 
tised,  and  the  disgraceful  perpetrator  may  be  sure  that  he  is  marked  for 
a  warm  reception  the-next  time  he  visits  Spunkville/' 

This  is  very  pleasant  under  the  circumstances,  and,  in 
addition  to  my  present  burden  of  ill,  resulting  from  my 
lameness,  here  is  a  fine  prospective  deposit  to  be  drawn 
upon  in  anticipation.  With  which  lame  and  impotent 
conclusion  allow  me  to  close. 


BLESS  YOU! 

THERE  is  a  prayer  of  simple  art, 

That  from  the  tongue  the  readiest  slips, 

Which  springs  spontaneous  from  the  heart, 
And  breaks  in  blessing  on  the  lips  : 
Bless  you ! 

When  joy's  bright  beam  about  us  rests, 
As  some  dear  hand  our  cup  o'erfills, 

In  this  our  gladness  manifests, 

And  with  love's  fondest  cadence  thrills : 
Bless  you ! 


BLESS  YOU!  267 

The  sympathy  with  others'  woe 

That  melts  the  heart  to  loving  tears, 
No  sweeter  form  of  speech  may  know 

Than  this  the  sorrowing  spirit  hears  : 
Bless  you ! 

When  weary  limb  and  aching  brain 

Attest  the  weight  of  busy  care, 
How  lifts  the  dulling  cloud  of  pain 

To  catch  the  accent  of  that  prayer : 
Bless  you ! 

In  love's  pure  sacrament  of  bliss, 

When  lip  meets  lip  in  fond  embrace, 
Rises  with  blest  approval  this 

To  give  the  chrism  a  holier  grace  : 
Bless  you ! 

As  failing  pulse  and  dimming  eye 

Proclaim  some  loved  one's  exit  near, 
How  like  a  whisper  from  on  high 

Comes  the  faint  murmur  to  our  e.ar : 
Bless  you ! 

But  yet  no  language  it  may  need ; 

A  glance,  as  well  as  words,  may  pray ; 
All  speech  kind  action  may  exceed, 

A  smile  a  deeper  sense  convey  : 
Bless  you !   ' 

Oh  !  may  our  hearts  be  tuned  aright, 

Unselfishly  this  prayer  to  feel, 
And  fill  our  measure  of  delight 

By  supplicating  others'  weal :     - 
Bless  you ! 


268  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 


SALT-WATER  TROUT. 

THE  following  reminds  one  very  much  oi*  stories  we 
have  read  of  the  Adirondacks  :  — 

"  Ben  and  I  rose  at  early  morn,  when  the  dew  was  on 
the  grass,  and  snuffed  the  air  with  satisfaction,  as  we 
pulled  on  our  hoots.  The  river  (Piscataqua),  sparkling 
and  bright  in  the  early  sunlight,  flashed  by,  before  us,  on 
its  way  to  the  sea,  for  it  was  flood  tide,  and  promised 
excellent  sport. 

"  '  Ben/  said  I,  '  'tis  a  fine  morningffor  fish.' 

"  *  Yes,  sir/  replied  he,  as  he  looked  over  towards  Eliot, 
and  his  eye  took  in  the  clear  outline  of  Mount  Agamenti- 
cus  and  a  woman  in  a  red  dress  on  the  opposite  bank, 
6  good  fishing  to-day;  and  there's  more  fish  in  that  river 
than  in  any  stream  of  its  size  in  this  country.' 

"  '  Take  the  clams,  Ben/  said  I,  '  and  we'll  try  Jem.' 

"I  had  the  flexible  rod  I  had  bought  of  Banfield, 
charged  to  my  account,  that  I  knew  would  tie  up  in  a  hard 
knot  before  it  would  break,  and  lots  of  cunner  hoolfs. 

"  '  Ben/  said  I,  '  where's  the  canteen  ?  ' 

"  '  All  right,  sir/  replied  he,  slapping  his  off  side,  and 
bringing  the  article  round  to  view. 

"'Nuff  sed  ;  now  for  it/  as  we  reached  the  small  wharf 
that  jutted  out  below  the  bank.  Opposite  was  Boiling 
Rock,  now  quiescent  in  the  high  tide,  the  full  stream,  like 
a  man  after  dinner,  moving  as  if  reluctantly.  There  was 
a  ripple  of  eddy  in  the  water,  that  swirled  away  coquet- 
tishly,  while  a  kingfisher  chattered  overhead  on  the  limb 
of  a  tree. 

" '  My  gracious  ! '  said  Ben,  as  he  seated  himself  on  top 
©f  a  stone  post.  '  If  I  only  had  a  gun,  I'd  stop  that  fel 
low's  music.' 


SALT-WATER   TROUT.  2G9 

"'And  wherefore,  O  Ben  ? '  I  remonstrated,  while  ad 
justing  my  line,  that  kinked  terribly,  so  that  I  found  some 
difficulty  in  getting  it  through  the  rings.  '  Has  he  not  a 
right  to  sing  ?  Indeed,  he  cannot  help  it.  It  is  his  nature 
to.  Don't  let  any  profane  wish  interpose  here  to  mar  the 

ecstasy  of  this  glorious  morning.  D the  line  ! '  I  said, 

in  my  vexation  ;  whereat  Ben  laughed. 

"  '  Don't  profane  it,  sir/  he  said ;  whereat  I  did  not 
laugh,  while  the  kingfisher  flew  away  with  a  long  shout  of 
ornithological  delight. 

"All  right  at  last,  after  half  an  hour's  sweating,  and 
throwing  over  the  hook,  baited  with  the  seductive  clam,  I 
bobbed  and  bobbed  for  a  bite.  There  came  a  positive  nib 
ble,  at  which  I  jerked. 

"  ( Let  'im  have  it,  sir/  said  Ben,  from  the  post. 

"  This  was  needless  advice,  for  the  fish,  whatever  it  was, 
took  it  itself.  I  baited  again,  and  threw  over,  with  the 
same  result. 

"  l  If  you  jerk  in  that  way/  said  Ben,  '  you'll  pull  his 
in'ards  out,  sir,  afore  you  ketch  him.  Try  him  gently,  sir.' 
Ben  lighted  his  pipe  as  he  spoke,  and  smoked  away  like 
a  philosopher. 

"  I  was  made  happy  a  moment  after  in  landing  a  three 
ounce  perch  on  the  wharf ;  and  another  and  another  followed, 
all  of  the  same  gigantic  mould,  whereat  Ben  laughed  heartily. 

"  '  My  gracious  ! '  said  he ;  t  you  beat  Parson  Murray,  up 
in  the  Highdrowndicks,  higher'n  a  kite;  He  never  see 
fishin'  like  that,  you  bet.' 

"  I  fancied  Ben  was  slightly  sarcastic. 

"  '  Now/  said  I,  as  I  put  on  a  whole  clam,  *  I'll  show  you 
fishing  that  will  astonish  you.' 

" '  I  dessay/  said  Ben,  from  the  post,  blowing  out  a 
cloud  of  smoke. 

"  Down  went  the  morsel  to  the  bottom,  which  it  no  sooner 

23* 


270  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

touched  than  Iliad  a  bite.  And  such  a  bite !  The  rod  in  my 
hand  bent  like  a  withe,  and  the  line  whistled  through  the 
water  as  the  struggling  fish  essayed  to  escape,  now  this  way, 
now  that  way  —  now  up,  and  then  plunging  heavily  down. 

"  '  Hold  on  ! '  cried  Ben,  from  the  post ;  '  you've  got  him, 
sure.  He  must  be  a  halibut ! '  He  was  very  much  ex 
cited,  but  stuck  to  the  top  of  the  post.  '  Give  him  play, 
sir,  and  you'll  tire  him  out.' 

"  I  made  a  feint  to  pull  him,  and  he  again  started,  com 
ing  to  rest  again  speedily  in  six  fathom  of  water,  from 
which  I  in  vain  endeavored  to  start  him,  my- pole  bending 
double  as  I  tugged  to  draw  him  from  the  bottom ;  but 
he  held'  on  most  tenaciously.  At  last,  after  a  violent, 
struggle,  grown  weary  with  the  effort,  the  sweat  streaming 
down  my  face,  I  laid  down  the  rod  and  pulled  the  victim 
in,  to  Ben's  great  delight,  hand  over  hand. 

"  '  You've  cotched  him,  sir,  as  sure  as  eggs  ! '  said  Ben 
from  the  post,  who  had  not,  I  was  sure,  as  I  certainly  had 
not,  breathed  for  fifteen  minutes,  as  I  drew  upon  the  wharf 
a  splendid  river  trout,  weighing,  I  should  judge,  three 
pounds,  that,  as  I  threw  him  down,  flapped  a  half  handful 
of  gravel  into  my  eyes  with  his  tail.  He  was  a  noble 
speckled  fellow,  with  horns  on  his  head,  and  a  mouth  four 
inches  wide,  with  which  he  had  swallowed  my  hook.  Such 
a  pair  of  expressive  eyes  I  never  saw  in  a  trout  before ;  and 
as  he  turned  them  up  to  mine,  there  seemed  almost  a  hu 
man  reproach  in  them,  that  melted  me. 

"  '  Ben/  said  I,  '  isn't  that  a  monstrous  trout  ?  ' 

"  That's  the  king  of  'em,'  said  Ben ;  <  but  they  don't  call 
?em  trout  down  here.' 

"  <  What  do  they  call  'em  ?  '  I  asked,  with  much  interest. 

"  He  gave  a  name^ 

"  Well,  a  fish  is  a  fish,  anyhow,  whatever  may  be  said  to 
the  contrary ;  and  if  any  one  wishes  to  know  what  I'caught, 
let  him  ask  Ben." 


A  POOB  BLIND  MAN.  271 


THE   POOR  BLIND   MAN. 

A  T?QOR  blind  man  besought  my  aid, 
Feeling  his  way  with  a  crooked  stick, 

Stepping  as  if  of  the  earth  afraid, 

And  touching  the  pave  with  pensive  lick. 

I  held  a  penny  before  his  eyes ; 

He  could  see  no  more  than  a  dead  man  can, 
And  I  felt  my  pity  within  me  rise, 

For  such  a  very  unfortunate  man. 

I  took  his  hand  and  led  him  o'er 

The  crossing  where  the  mud  was  deep, 

And  guided  his  steps  where  a  bit  before 
An  Irishman  had  tried  to  sweep. 

He  thanked  me  kindly,  with  rayless  eye, 
And  a  tearful  tone  of  cadence  sweet ; 

Just  then  a  dog,  that  was  going  by, 

Smelt  him  to  know  were  he  good  to  eat. 

I  could  but  mark  the  blind  man's  look 
As  the  canine  smelt  his  brogans  thick ; 

And  I  marked  the  capital  aim  he  took 
As  he  gave  that  canine  a  damaging  kick. 

Then  the  blind  man  chuckled  in  merry  mood, 

As  the  dog  yelped  out  his  agony ; 
But  how  he  knew  where  the  canine  stood 

Was  more  than  I,  with  both  eyes,  could  see. 

Just  then  came  along  a  street  horse-car, 

And  the  blind  man  hailed  it,  and  off  he  rolled, 

And  I  felt  it  on  my  consciousness  jar, 
That  I  had  been  infernally  sold. 


272  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 


MR.   SPOTGAM'S   TREAT. 

IT  was  a  habit  that  Mr.  Spotgam  contracted  at  Saratoga. 
He  came  home  full  of  it,  and  used  to  make  his  brags  that 
he  drank,  at  times,  ten  tumblers  at  a  single  standing! 
What,  in  Heaven's  name  ?  the  reader  asks.  The  answer, 
Empire  Spring  Water.  It  was  his  weakness,  —  his  weak 
ness  literally,  — and  he  left,  with  the  little  str»agth  he  had, 
in  three  days.  But  his  visit  to  Saratoga  was  an  epoch  in 
his  life,  and  "  when  I  was  in  Saratoga  "  became  a  "  chronic 
affectation  "  with  him,  as  Mrs.  Partington  might  say.  Those 
who  heard  him  tell  the  story  of  the  ten  tumblers  of  Em 
pire  Spring  Water  invariably  knocked  with  their  knuckles 
on  a  table,  or  other  sounding-board  that  might  be  near, 
which  implied  a  measure  of  unbelief;  but  he  stoutly  per 
sisted  in  the  ten-strike..  Bless  you!  why,  he  was  so  fond 
of  the  water  that  he  has  gone  to  the  spring  twenty  times 
in  a  day,  till  the  little  boy  who  drew  up  the  drink  learned 
to  know  him,  and  always  had  two  tumblers  ready  drawE 
for  him  when  he  arrived,  and  stood  ready  to  draw  more 
should  he  want  it,  which  of  course  he  did.  He  never 
drank  less  than  six  tumblers.  It  was  marvellous  to  him 
that  some  didn't  like  it ;  but  he  had  actually  seen  some 
make  up  faces  at  it,  and  others  spit  it  out.  It  was  mothers 
milk  to  him,  and  if  he  lived  in  Saratoga  he  should  have  his 
tea  made  of  it. 

Spotgam  boarded  out.  His  salary  was  not  large,  but  lie 
managed  very  respectably  with  not  very  extensive  means. 
He  kept  cigars  in  his  room,  and  had  wherewithal  to  regale 
his  friends  when  they  came  to  see  him.  He  was  an  orucle 
at  table,  and  his  visit  to  Saratoga  had  made  him  a  man 


ME.  SPOTGAM'S  TREAT.  273 

to  be  looked  up  to.  He  quite  put  out  the  pipe  of  the 
ex-colonel,  and  the  foreman  of  No.  27,  who  also  boarded 
there,  was  nowhere.  There  was  a  constant  rivalry  among 
the  seven  young  lady  boarders  for  his  chaperonage,  and 
the  one  who  succeeded  in  securing  him  for  an  evening 
to  the  theatre,  or  other  place  of  amusement,  was  an  object 
of  envy  with  the  rest  for  a  week  afterwards. 

After  the  fall  cleaning  was  all  done  up,  Spotgam  and  the 
young  ladies  put  their  heads  together, —  they  were  always 
putting  their  heads  together  in  one  way  or  another,  —  and 
a  party  was  soon  announced,  by  cards  and  compliments,  to 
take  place  on  Spotgam's  twenty-first  birthday,  the  twelfth 
of  September.  The  ladies  at  once  were  installed  a  com 
mittee  of  arrangements,  with  occasional  conferences  with 
the  giver  of  the  entertainment,  who,  of  course,  left  it  en 
tirely  with  them.  There  was  subsequently  a  great  deal 
of  stir  in  the  house,  and  Mrs.  Miles,  the  landlady,  who  was 
an  excellent  cook,  was  early  and  late  at  work  preparing  for 
the  treat.  The  invitations  were  sent  out,  and  the  various 
essentials  sent  in,  and  the  bill  amounted  to  a  formidable 
figure.  But  a  man's  twenty-first  birthday  doesn't  happen 
more  than  once  in  a  lifetime,  and  Spotgam  contemned 
the  expense. 

He  was  considerably  anxious  as  the  day  approached,  as 
he  wished  the  matter  to  go  off  well.  The  Wiggins  and 
Trotts  had  given  treats  that  had  set  the  neighborhood 
agog,  and  proved  vital  themes  of  conversation  for  many 
moons,  and  he  wished  the  Miles  party  to  eclipse  them  all. 
He  set  his  wits  to  work  to  devise  something  in  which  to 
excel  them,  and  procured  many  delicacies  they  had  not 
possessed.  It  was  really  no  common  corn-ball  affair,  but 
one  that  the  papers  would  call  recherche. 

Passing  along  through  a  street  the  day  before  the  par 
ty,  Spotgam  saw  a  label  hanging  over  the  neck  of  a  bottle 


274  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

by  a  window,  "Saratoga  Water  —  Empire  Spring  —  for 
sale  here."  He  immediately  said  to  himself,  "  I  must  have 
some  of  that,  sure ;  "  and,  going  in,  he  ordered  that  a  half 
dozen  hottles  be  sent  up.  "  There,"  said  he,  chuckling  to 
himself,  "  there  is  a  matter  in  which  the  Wiggins  and 
Trotts  will  be  outdone.  They  know  nothing  of  Saratoga  ; 
and  with  a  little  Hock  wine,  hey  !  "  He  almost  capered  at 
the  idea ;  and  it  was  an  eclipsing  feature  for  the  rivals  of 
Deal  Court,  so  called  because  it  was  chiefly  devoted  to 
boarding-houses. 

When  Spotgam  came  home  in  the  evening,  his  first  busi 
ness  was  to  see  Bridget,  the  maid  of  all  work,  and  ascer 
tain  if  the  water  had  come,  as  an  anxious  housekeeper 
might  concerning  a  pump  that  had  long  been  dry.  She 
told  him  that  it  had,  and  that  she  had  put  it  in  a  safe  place 
in  a  closet  which  was  not  much  used,  that  he  well  knew, 
and  he  went  up  stairs  delighted.  He  would  take  them  by 
surprise  ;  and  when  he  sprung  his  Empire  Spring  Water 
upon  them,  it  would  strike  them,  he  thought,  as  the  spectator 
was  struck  at  the  engine  trial,  who  received  the  whole 
stream  of  No.  11  with  astonishment.  How  the  Wiggins 
and  Trotts  would  feel  when  they  came  to  hear  of  it ! 

Well,  the  fussing,  and  fuming,  and  inviting,  and  prepar 
ing  all  ended  in  the  grand  climax,  —  the  treat,  —  and  Spot- 
gam,  in  white  kids  and  great  affability,  backed  by  his  charm 
ing  coadjutors,  received  his  guests  like  a  prince ;  and  Deal 
Court  wore  a  lively  aspect  on  the-  eventful  night  of  the 
twelfth  of  September.  The  entry  lamp  had  an  additional 
lustre,  and  the  wax  candles  upon  the  parlor  candelabras 
brilliantly  reflected  back  upon  each  other,  like  two  wits  at 
a  party  disposed  to  be  personal.  Mrs.  Miles's  red  face  in 
the  kitchen  looked  immense  with  anxiety  and  heat,  for  that 
night  was  to  be  an  eventful  one  in  the  annals  of  her  housfe, 
and  she  felt  its  importance,  to  say  nothing  of  a  five-dollar 


MB.  SPOTGAM'S  TEEAT.  275 

bill  that  the  giver  of  the  treat  had  thrust  into  her  hand, 
eliciting  the  remark  from  her  that  he  was  the  "  generousest 
creetur."  Even  Bridget  looked  luminous  in  new  calico, 
with  flowers  as  big  as  your  hand,  that  she  had  lately  re 
ceived  as  a  present.  In  short,  every  thing  was  as  it  should 
be,  and,  like  Saxe's  briefless  barrister,  Spotgam  said,  "  'Tis 
well." 

The  party  was  a  delightful  one,  •  composed  of  the-  most 
judicious  materials  —  a  human  punch,  with  just  enough  of 
the  acid  of  sarcasm,  and  the  spirit  of  wit  and  repartee, 
and  the  sweet  of  femininity,  and  the  ice  of  etiquette,  and 
the  water  —  well,  we  haven't  got  to  the  water  yet  —  noth 
ing  will  do  for  such  a  compound  but  Empire  Spring  Water ; 
and  Spotgam  smiled  to  himself  as  he  thought  of  the 
black  quart  bottles  that  waited  almost  impatiently  for  his 
summons.  Every  one  seemed  pleased,  and  such  a  clatter 
of  delightful  tongues  had  never  been  heard  in  Deal  Court 
before.  The  spirit  of  the  scene  blazed  in  musical  execu 
tion  to  the  melodies  of  Du-dah,  Du-dah,  arid  Kelly  Bly, 
and  smacked  like  champagne  in  the  delicate  manoeuvres 
incident  to  Copenhagen. 

At  length,  wearied  with  pleasure,  having  exhausted  all 
expedients  and  resources  of  fun,  the  party  adjourned  to  the 
supper  table,  that  groaned,  as  is  customary  with  tables, 
with  the  weight  of  good  things  that  oppressed  it,  like  an 
alderman  after  a  public  dinner,  where  every  one  was  in 
vited  to  partake,  and  Mr.  Spotgam  did  the  honors  of  the 
table.  The  Wiggins  and  the  Trotts  were  really  nowhere. 
The  variety,  quality,  profusion,  all  operated  to  place  the 
treat  in  brilliant  and  exalted  comparison  with  all  other 
treats  that  ever  transpired  in  Deal  Court.  Everbody  was 
delighted,  and  Mrs.  Miles's  boarders  must  thereafter  take 
higher  rank. 

At  last  Spotgam  asked  to  be  excused  for  one  moment. 


276  PAETINGTOXIAN   PATCHWORK. 

He  wished  to  introduce  to  the  company  a  friend,  of  whom 
many  of  them  had  heard  him  speak,  whose  acquaintance 
he  had  made  at  Saratoga  last  summer,  a  sparkling,  pun 
gent  fellow  that  he  believed  they  would  all  like.  He  would 
bring  him  in  immediately.  He  retired,  and  a  very  quiet 
smile  flitted  over  the  features  of  those  who  were  in  the 
secret  as  he  left  the  room.  He  came  back  very  soon, 
bearing  two  black  bottles  under  each  arm  and  one  in  each 
hand. 

"  Gentlemen  and  ladies/'  said  he,  applying  a  corkscrew 
to  the  bottle  before  him,  "this  is  the  friend  of  whom  I 
spoke,  and  I  mistake  in  my  guess  if  you  do  not  regard  him 
as  a  jewel  of  the  first  water,  and  this  lesser  individual  is 
his  companion.  Ladies  and  gentleman,  this  is  Empire 
Spring  Water,  Esq.,  and- this  General  Hock." 

When  the  bottles  were  all  uncorked,  he  gave  Bridget, 
who  waited  upon  the  table,  the  task  to  fill  the  glasses 
around  the  board  with  the  fluids,  which  she  did ;  then  he 
proposed  a  toast  to  be  drunk  in  the  water,  in  order  that  he 
might  witness  the  pleasure  he  was  confident  they  would 
experience.  He  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips,  and  quaffed  it 
all  off.  His  guests  sipped,  but  none  could  accomplish 
more,  immediately  "  dipping  their  nose  in  the  Gascon 
wine,"  as  if  the  other  were  unpleasant. 

"  You  will  find  the  second  drink  far  more  pleasant,"  said 
he,  filling  another  tumbler.  "  I  found  it  so  at  first  when  I 
was  at  Saratoga.  I  always  found  the  tenth  tumbler,"  — 
here  there  was  a  slight  knock  on  the  table,  —  "yes,  I  said 
the  tenth  tumbler,  —  the  sweetest  of  any  ;"  he  raised  the 
tumbler  to  his  lips,  ^nd  tossed  olf  the  second.  "I  confess," 
continued  he,  "  that  it  tastes  better  at  the  springs,  but  still 
it  is  very  palatable." 

No  one  else  dared  venture  upon  the  second,  and  Spot- 
gam  saw  the  one  grand  hope  of  the  occasion  expire.  It  was 


ME.  SPOTGAM'S  TREAT.  277 

to  be  the  skeleton  at  his  feast.  He  therefore  ordered  that 
Bridget  clear  away  the  glasses.  The  treat  ended,  and  the 
party  broke  up,  after  more  Copenhagen,  and  more  twirling 
the  platter,  and  more  "Du-dah,  Du-dah,"  at  a  late  hour  in 
the  morning. 

"And,  indade,  'twas  a  quare  thing  you  did  with  the 
wather,  sir/7  said  Bridget  to  Spotgam  next  day,  and  her 
mouth  retreated  on  both  sides  to  a  point  beneath  her  ears ; 
"  mighty  quare  !  " 

"Ah,  why?"  inquired  he,  with  a  slight  tremor  in  his  voice. 

"Indade,  'twas  the  forge  wather,  sir,"  she  said,  the  ex 
pressive  mouth  reaching  some  distance  behind  the  ears. 

"  The  forge  water  ?  —  spurious,  eh  ?  —  counterfeit  ?  " 
eagerly  queried  Spotgam. 

"  'Twas  the  forge  wather  the  young  ladies  got  from  the 
blacksmith's  shop,  sir,"  said  she,  to  wash  their  purty  faces 
in,  and  you  got  howld  of  the  wrong  bottles,  sir." 
•  "  That  accounts  for  it,  by  Jove  ! "  said  he,  slapping  his 
knee.  "  I  thought  it  tasted  infernally  nasty.  I  guess 
you'd  better  not  say  any  thing  about  it." 

Bridget,  however,  who  had  a  keen  relish  for  fun,  found 
it  a  hard  thing  to  keep.  She  had,  unfortunately,  a  cousin 
living  with  the  Wiggins,  who  was  intrusted  with  the 
story  under  an  injunction  of  secrecy,  who  in  turn  told  it 
to  a  servant  that  lived  with  the  Trotts,  under  the  same 
charge,  and  the  result  was,  that  in  a  short  time  the  whole 
of  Deal  Court  knew  it,  though  no  one  could  tell  how  it 
transpired.  To  be  sure  there  was  a  grand  laugh  at  Spot- 
gam's  expense,  and  "Mr.  Spotgam' 8  Treat"  became  a 
proverb.  The  worst  of  it  was,  that  his  reputation  as  a 
connoisseur  in  Saratoga  water  died  out  from  that  time,  <ind 
he  is  very  careful  to  whom  he  tells  the  story  about  the  ten 
tumblers  of  Empire  Spring  Water,  though  at  the  mention 
of  Saratoga  he  always  looks  as  if  he  wanted  to. 

24 


278  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 


HOME  IN  VACATION. 

How  still  the  house  is !     All  the  noise  and  riot, 
That  late  our  ears  with  fearful  din  distracted, 

Are  now  submerged  in  overwhelming  quiet, 
And  order  reigns  where  chaos  was  enacted. 

Ah,  blessed  order  !  we  thy  peace  enjoying, 
Forget  the  recent  source  of  our  vexation, 

And  while  the  tranquil  time  we  are  employing, 
We  bless  the  happy  season  of  vacation. 

No  voices  by  the  chamber  stairs  are  calling ; 

No  lawless  hands  on  the  piano  drumming  j 
No  teasing  Ike  his  sisterhood  is  hauling  ; 

No  screams  for  "  Father ! "  to  his  ear  are  coming ; 

No  boisterous  lungs  in  disputatious  fretting  j 
No  tart  remark,  no  sharp  recrimination ; 

No  little  rebel  duty's  claim  forgetting ; 
No  broken  rules  for  stern  examination. 

The  books  are  on  the  shelves  in  nice  'condition, 
The  music  piled  up  in  the  proper  places, 

The  table-cloths  are  in  exact  position, 

And  just  the  angle  are  the  shells  and  vases. 

It  is  so  quiet !    Not  an  echo  hearing 

In  all  the  rooms,  from  basement  to  the  attic. 

We  smile  to  realize  the  comfort  cheering 
Of  stillness  so  profound  —  bliss  so  ecstatic. 


HOME  IN  VACATION.  279 

But  yet,  amid  the  turbulence  and  clatter, 

There  mingled  strains  that  filled  the  heart  with  pleasure, 
Kernels  of  love  mixe'd  with  the  idle  chatter, 

Bright  grains  among  the  dross  we  loved  to  treasure. 

Glad  glances  met  our  own  each  day  returning, 
And  faces  with  the  soul's  young  sunlight  glowing, 

And  hearts  with  warm,  impulsive  fervor  burning, 

Spoke  out  from  lips  with  youth's  own  language  flowing. 

Sweet  melodies  upon  the  air  of  even 

Woke  the  heart's  tenderness  to  fondest  dreaming, 
And  lost  in  notes  that  seemed  like  those  of  heaven, 

Forgot  were  cares  with  which  the  earth  is  teeming. 

Although  we  prize  the  luxury  of  order, 

And  think  ourselves  enriched  the  boon  possessing, 

The  ripless  calm  that  overhangs  our  border, 
Purchased  with  loss  of  these,  is  not  a  blessing. 

We 'sigh  regretfully  the  past  recalling, 

And  crave  disorder  with  the  joys  attending, 

For  quiet  wears  to  us  a  garb  appalling, 

And  peace  thus  gained  is  not  worth  the  defending. 

Then  welcome  once  again  the  wild  commotion, 

The  song,  the  shout,  the  dance,  the  roguish  actions, 

Breaking  to  life  the  dull  domestic  ocean, 
By  order's  oft  allowable  infractions. 


280  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


DISPOSING  OF  A  CASE. 

THERE  was  a  case  in  court  wherein  Mr.  F.  M.  Pinto 
was  to  appear  as  a  witness.  He  put  on  his  best  clothes, 
and  brushed  up  his  hair  in  order  to  give  him  an  external 
semblance  of  purity  consonant  with  the  inward  integrity 
that  filled  his  soul.  His  testimony  was  to  fix  the  fact  defi 
nitely  whether  the  defendant  was  at  a  certain  poinv  at 
twenty-five  or  thirty  minutes  before  or  after  a  certain  hour. 
Those  who  know  Pinto's  disposition  to  exaggerate  gave 
him  advice  enough  to  have  guided  any  ordinary  man,  but 
Pinto  was  not  an  ordinary  man.  He  was  a  little  out  of 
place,  however,  in  a  witness  box,  but  put  an  excellent  face 
on  it. 

"  Pinto,"  said  one,  as  his  name  was  called,  "  now  be  su**e 
and  tell  the  truth." 

"  Don't  do  it,  Pinto,"  echoed  another ;  "  if  you  do  they 
will  be  sure  not  to  believe  you." 

But  he  went  on  the  stand,  took  the  oath,  ard  Mien 
looked  down  at  the  counsel  awaiting  the  questioning. 

"  Do  you  understand  this  case,  Mr.  Pinto  ?  "  asked  the 
counsel. 

"  I  think  I  do,  sir,"  replied  Pinto ;  "  I  was  presert  .when 
it  was  opened,  and  can  testify  "  — 

"  Not  yet,  sir  ;  not  yet,"  said  the  counsel. 

"  When  the  incident  occurred  on  which  it  is  ba^ed,  were 
you  present?" 

"  Of  course  I  was ;  Jim  asked  in  half  a  dozen  of  us. 
There  was  Tom  Grover,  and  Bill  tfewett,  and  "  — 

"  That  is  not  to  the  purpose,  Mr.  Pinto.  Now  tell  the 
jury  the  exact  time  when  this  happened." 


DISPOSING  OF  A  CASE.  281 

"As  nearly  as  I  can  remember,  it  was  about  eleven 
o'clock,  because  Tim  Grover  "  — 

"No  matter  about  Tim  Grover.  May  it  not  have  been 
twenty-five  minutes  past  eleven  ?  " 

"  Yes,  perhaps  it  might ;  but  Bill  Jewett "  — 

"  We  will  dispense  with  Jewett.  What  we  wish  to 
know  is,  whether  Muggs,  the  defendant,  was  present  at 
Jones's,  at  twenty -five  minutes  past  eleven,  or  not  ?  Can 
you  swear  that  he  was  there  at  that  time  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  can.     Jim  said  "  — 

"  No  matter  what  Jim  said.     You  can  sit  down." 

"  Stay,"  said  the  counsel  for  the  defendant,  and  he 
staid.  » 

"  Mr.  Pinto,"  said  the  counsel,  "  were  you  at  Jones's,  on 
the  twentieth  of  March,  at  twenty-five  minutes  before 
eleven  o'clock  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Are  you  sure  about  the  hour  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Now  tell  the  jury  what  you  know  about  this  case." 

"  Jim  Jones  said  he  had  a  case  of  rare  old  gin,  and  asked 
us  in  to  try  it ;  and  so  Tim  Grover  and  Bill  Jewett  "  — 

"  And  Muggs  ?  "  said  the  counsel  for  the  plaintiff. 

"No,  Muggs  wasn't  there  then." 

"  Well,  when  did  he  come  in  ?  "  asked  the  counsel. 

"  He  didn't  come  in  at  all." 

"  But   you  were   there   at   twenty-five   minutes   before 
eleven  ?  " 
.   "Yes." 

"  And  twenty-five  minutes  past  eleven  ?  "  said  one  of  the 
jurymen,  waking  up. 

"Yes." 

"  Explain  yourself,"  said  the  court. 

"  Why,  your  honor,  Jim  Jones  had  a  case  of  gin,  and 

24* 


282  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 

Tim  Grover,  and  Bill  Jewett,  and  I  went  to  his  place 
about  eleven  o'clock  "  — 

"  You  said  twenty-five  minutes  past,  Mr.  Pinto/'  said 
the  judge,  sternly,  consulting  his  notes. 

"  Twenty-five  minutes  before,  your  honor,"  said  the  coun 
sel  for  the  defence. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,"  said  Pinto,  "  I  was  there  from  ten 
o'clock  till  twelve.  'Twould  be  impossible  to  open  and 
dispose  of  a  case  in  half  an  hour  "  — 

"  But  was  Muggs  there  at  all  ? "  asked  the  counsel  for 
the  defence. 

"  Not  that  I  saw." 

"  Then  what  is  the  case  you  are  toying  to  prove  ?  "  asked 
the  judge,  severely. 

"  The  case  of  gin,"  said  Pinto. 

"  You  may  sit  down,  sir,"  said  the  judge. 


VAIN  REGRETS. 

A  SEEDY  old  beggar  asked  alms  of  me 

As  he  sat  'neath  the  shade  of  a  wayside  tree. 

He  was  beggared  in  purse  and  beggared  in  soul, 

And  his  voice  betrayed  a  pitiful  dole, 

As  he  sang  a  song,  to  a  dismal  pitch, 

With  the  burden,  "  IF  THINGS  WAS  ONLY  SICH  ! 

"If  things  was  only  sich,"  said  he, 

"  You  should  see  what  a  wonderful  man  I'd  be ; 

No  beggar  I,  by  the  wayside  thrown, 

But  I'd  live  in  a  palace  and  millions  own, 

And  men  would  court  me  if  I  were  rich  — 

As  I'd  be  if  things  was  only  sich." 


VAIN  REGRETS.  283 

"  If  things  was  only  sich,"  said  he, 
"  I'd  be  lord  of  the  land  and  lord  of  the  sea ; 
I  would  have  a  throne  and  be  a  king, 
And  rule  the  roast  with  a  mighty  swing  — 
I'd  make  a  place  in  Fame's  bright  niche ; 
I'd  do  it  if  things  was  only  sich." 

"  If  things  was  only  sich,"  said  he, 

"  Rare  wines  I'd  quaff  from  the  far  countree, 

I'd  clothe  myself  in  dazzling  garb, 

I'd  mount  the  back  of  the  costly  barb, 

And  none  should  ask  me  wherefore  or  which  — 

Did  it  chance  that  things  was  only  sich." 

"  If  things  was  only  sich,"  said  he, 
"  I'd  love  the  fairest  and  they'd  love  me  ; 
Yon  dame,  with  a  smile  that  warms  my  heart, 
Might  have  borne  with  me  life's  better  part, 
But  lost  to  me,  here  in  poverty's  ditch, 
What  were  mine  if  things  was  only  sich." 

Thus  the  old  beggar  moodily  sung, 

And  his  eyes  dropped  tears  as  his  hands  he  wrung. 

I  could  but  pity  to  hear  him  berate, 

In  dolorous  tones,  the  decrees  of  Fate, 

That  laid  on  his  back  its  iron  switch, 

While  he  cried,  "  If  things  was  only  sich." 

"  If  things  was  only  sich  ! "  —  e'en  all 
Might  the  past  in  sad  review  recall ;  , 

But  little  the  use  and  little  the  gain, 
Exhuming  the  bones  of  buried  pain, 
And  whether  we're  poor  or  whether  we're  rich, 
We'll  say  not,  "  If  things  was  only  sich." 


284  •       PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


EXTRACT  FROM  AN  UNWRITTEN  ROMANCE. 

"  IT  was  about  seven  bells  when  the  true  charac.cei  of 
the  corvette  was  discovered,  and  there  was  immediate 
alacrity  on  board  the  privateer  (Lively  Bug)  to  got  oat  of 
the  way.  All  sail  was  made,  and  the  canvas  was  wet,  but 
to  little  advantage,  for  the  corvette  gained  upon  us,  and 
soon  her  black  hull,  almost  within  howitzer  range,  ^o.ned 
up  behind  us.  She  had  the  British  ensign  at  che  pei>k, 
and*  presented  a  formidable  appearance.  She  had  not  as 
yet  fired  a  gun,  but  seemed  bent  on  making  an  easy  con 
quest  by  boarding  us. 

"  '  Oh  for  a  breeze  ! '  cried  Captain  Jo.  Hatch,  nervously 
walking  the  deck,  and  turning  his  eye  towards  h:s  ap 
proaching  foe. 

"But  the  breeze  did  not  respond  to  his  asking,  a^d  Mie 
Lively  Bug  did  not  move  at  a  pace  in  keeping  with  h^r 
name. 

"'Mr.  Cinder  !\  shouted  the  captain.  '  Call  Cinder, 
some  of  you  ; '  which  was  done. 

"  Cinder  was  the  armorer,  who  thought  the  scene  of  his 
labors  was  below  just  then.     As  he  put  his  head  abovs  ihe^ 
hatch,  the  captain  sung  out,  — 

" '  Cinder,  I  want  the  shank  of  the  old  anchor  on  deck  :n 
five  minutes.' 

"'Ay,  ay,  sir/  said  Cinder,  as  he  disappeared, an -1  in  the 
time  specified  -the  shank,  a  heavy  mass  of  iron,  boi.ne  by 
four  men,,  was  on  deck. 

ftt  Mr.  Tompion,'  said  the  captain  to  the  gunner  of  the 
Long  Tom,  '  I  want  three  powder  cartridges  put  iixto  the 
gun.' 


EXTRACT  FROM  AN  UNWRITTEN  ROMANCE.    285 

"  '  'Twill  bust  her,'  said  Tompion. 

u  'Do  as  I  bid  you,'  said  the  captain,  sternly,  and  it  was 
dono,  the  crew  instinctively  drawing  back,  and  Old  Tom 
Trunnion  saying,  as  he  sat  down  on  the  windlass,  ( 'Tisn't 
my  ^hip,  and  the  underwriters'll  have  to  suffer.' 

'  To  o;ir  surprise,  the  captain  then  ordered  the  gunner 
and  his  men  to  hoist  the  shank  of  the  anchor  into  the  can- 
nor,  ana.  then  we  thought  the  old  man  was  mad,  sure 
enough;  but  he  appeared  perfectly  self-possessed.  He 
call  3d  us  ift. 

"  '  Boys,'  said  he,  e  I  am  not  going  to  be  taken  by  that 
vessel  if  good  gunnery  will  save  us.  Be  ready  to  obey  all 
my  orders.  Point  the  gun  to  windward.' 

"We  did  so,  and  awaited  the  result  with  suspended 
breach.  The  corvette  came  up  with  us,  till  we  could  see 
the  color  of  the  shirts  the  men  wore,  when  we  heard  our 
captain's  voice  say,  — 

a  '  Fort  your  helm  ! ' 

l'<  He  >?tood  sighting  the  gun,  and  as  the  Lively  Bug 
swuag  round,  bringing  the  three  masts  of.  the  corvette 
directly  in  range,  he  pulled  the  lanyard. 

"  'Bcvng! '  went  the  gun,  with  a  crash  like  thunder,  and 
the  captain  was  seen  going  rapidly  aft  as  the  mass  of  iron 
darted  from  the  muzzle  of  the  gun.  The  Lively  Bug 
trembled  in  every  joint,  and  keeled  over  to  the  water's 
edge.  An  instant,  and  a  terrific  crash  and  yell  on  the  cor- 
•vette  revealed  what  had  been  done,  as  all  three  of  her 
ma,?ts  lull  over  her  side  into  the  sea,  and  the-  single  shot  of 
h?.r  bTw  chaser  whistled  between  our  masts. 

*•'  Tht  wind  began  to  freshen  at  this  instant,  and  the  Bug 
began  to  move  rapidly  through  the  water.  For  a  few  mo- 
meats  we  forgot  the  captain ;  but  on  searching  for  him  we 
found  .him  on  the  cabin  table,  having  been  blown  through  the 
skylight.  He  was  insensible  for  a  time  j  but  when  he  came 


286  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

to  and  saw  the  effect  of  his  shot,  he  ordered  an  attack  on 
the  corvette,  and,  with  the  wind  now  in  our  favor,  we  so 
manoeuvred  that  in  fifteen  «minutes  the  British  corvette 
Snapdragon,  of  twenty-four  guns,  was  prize  to  the  Yankee 
privateer  Lively  Bug ! 

"  The  medal  awarded  by  Congress  for  this  gallant  ex 
ploit  is  in  existence,  and  at  present  in  possession  of  an  un 
cle  of  the  narrator,  to  be  seen  by  any  one  who  desires." 


TRUE   FAITH. 

OLD  Reuben  Fisher,  who  lived  in  the  lane, 

Was  never  in  life  disposed  to  complain  ; 

If  the  weather  proved  fair,  he  thanked  God  for  the  sun, 

And  if  it  were  rainy,  with  him  'twas  all  one ;  — 

"  I  have  just  the  weather  I  fancy,"  said  he, 

"  For  what  pleases  God  always  satisfies  me." 

If  trouble  assailed,  his  brow  was  ne'er  dark, 

And  his  eye  never  lost  its  happiest  spark. 

"  'Twill  not  better  fix  it  to  gloom  or  to  sigh ; 

To  make  the  best  of  it  I  always  shall  try  ! 

So,  Care,  do  your  worst,"  said  Reuben  with  glee, 

"  And  which  of  us  conquers,  we  shall  see,  we  shall  see." 

If  his  children  were  wild,  as  children  will  prove, 
His  temper  ne'er  lost  its  warm  aspect  of  love  ; 
"  My  dear  wife,"  he'd  say,  "don't  worry  nor  fret ; 
'Twill  all  be  right  with  the  wayward  ones  yet ; 
'Tis  the  folly  of  youth,  that  must  have  its  way  ; 
They'll  penitent  turn  from  their  evil  some  day." 


TRUE  FAITH.  287 

If  a  name  were  assailed,  he  would  cheerily  say, 
"  Well,  well ;  we'll  not  join  in  the  cry,  any  way ; 
There  are  always  two  sides  to  every  tale  — 
And  the  true  one  at  last  is  sure  to  prevail. 
There  is  an  old  rule  that  I  learned  when  a  lad,  — 
1  Deem  every  one  good  till  he's  proved  to  be  had.' " 

And  when  in  the  meshes  of  sin  tightly  bound, 

The  reckless  and  luckless  mortal  was  found, 

Proscribed  by  every  woman  and  man, 

And  put  under  rigid  and  merciless  ban, 

Old  Reuben  would  say,  with  sympathy  fraught, 

"  We  none  of  us  do  half  as  well  as  we  ought." 

If  friends  waxed  cold,  he'd  say  with  a  smile  — 
. "  Well,  if  they  must  go,  Heaven  bless  them  the  while ; 
We  walked  a  sweet  path  till  the  crossing  ways  met, 
And  though  we  have  parted,  I'll  cherish  them  yet ; 
They'll  go  by  their  way  and  I'll  go  by  mine  — 
Perhaps  in  the  city  ahead  we  shall  join." 

There  were  sickness  and  death  at  last  in  his  cot, 
But  still  Reuben  Fisher  in  sorrow  blenched  not : 
"'Tis  the  Father  afflicts  :  let  Him  do  what  He  will; 
What  comes  from  His  hand  can  mean  us  no  ill ; 
I  cheerfully  give  back  the  blessing  He  lent, 
And  through  faith  in  the  future  find  present  content." 

Then  he  lay  on  his  death-bed  at  last  undismayed ; 
No  terror  had  death  at  which  he  was  afraid ; 
"  Living  or  dying,  'tis  all  well  with  me, 
For  God's  will  is  my  will,"  submissive  said  he. 
And  so  Reuben  died,  with  his  breast  full  of  grace, 
That  beamed  in  a  smile  on  his  time-furrowed  face. 


288  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

* 

A  BIT   OF  OBITUARY. 

THE  LATE  EVERMORE  SMOOTH. 

THE  demise  of  this  distinguished  man  affords  me  oppor 
tunity  to  speajv  of  his  many  virtues.  He  had  for  seventy 
years  occupied  a  prominent  place  in  the  popular  eye,  during 
which  time  he  had  never  refused  to  serve  the  public  in  any 
capacity  that  promised  to  pay.  When  any  great  question 
came  up  on  which  the  people  divided,  his  decision  was 
marked,  because  it  had  been  arrived  at  by  the  slow  pro 
cess  of  culling  the  opinions  of  others,  and  selecting  those 
which  would  be  likely  to  prove  successful,  and  therefore 
he  was  a  safe  man  to  follow.  In  politics  he  forever  sought 
to  be  on  the  winning  side ;  and  when,  as  sometimes  hap 
pened  through  the  fickleness  of  public  opinion,  that  the 
weaker  became  the  stronger,  he  ever  had  the  candor  to  ad 
mit  his  error,  and  exert  as  much  haste  as  possible  in  get 
ting  again  with  the  majority,  making  up  by  his  zeal  the 
mistake  of  position.  He  was  zealous  as  a  politician,  and 
though  he  never  attempted  to  coerce  a  voter,  it  was  always 
understood  that  if  any  in  his  employ  voted  against  him, 
their  places  were  vacant,  thus  leaving  their  fortune  in  their 
own  hands  and  silencing  all  claims  of  injustice.  When  the 
war  of  rebellion  broke  out,  he  was  one  of  the  first  to  volun 
teer,  as  a  contractor,  and  did  distinguished ,  service  in  that 
field  of  duty.  Before  the  close  of  the  war,  having  made 
all  he  could  out  of  it,  he  retired  from  the  field,  sick  of  vio 
lence.  His  health  was  impaired,  and  deeming  that  safety 
lay  in  the  church,  he  joined  a  respectable  organization  of 
that  description,  the  stock  in  which  immediately  went  up 
fifty  per  cent.  He  was  inspired  by 'feelings  of  the  grandest 


A  BIT   OF  OBITUARY.  289 

benevolence,  and  his  name  was  always  mentioned  when  he 
gave  away  any  thing,  as  an  inducement  to  others.  His 
mission  was  to  visit  the  widow  and  the  fatherless,  which 
he  strictly  fulfilled,  generally  after  the  fatherless  were  in 
he'd,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  make  his  virtue  too  ostentatious 
by  going  in  the  daytime.  He  loved  to  take  the  widows 
by  the  hand  and  listen  to  their  wants  and  relieve  them ; 
but  as  there  were  a  good  many  wi'dows  in  his  society,  the 
fund  for  each  was  small.  He  was  an  uncompromising  op 
ponent  of  sin  and  sinners  —  never  forgiving  either.  When 
he  read  the  injunctions  regarding  forgiveness,  he  always 
read  them  with  a  reservation,  and  insisted  that  the  forgive 
ness  as  we  forgive,  in  the  Lord's  Prayer,  was  wrongly 
translated.  Being  a  person  of  influence,  this  was  the  view 
taken  of  it  by  nearly  everybody  in  the  parish,  except  the 
infidels.  So  with  the  golden  rule :  "  Do  as  you  are  done 
by  "  was  adopted  as  the  proper  translation,  at  the  sugges 
tion  of  Mr.  Smooth,  the  sentiment  of  which  he  faithfully 
exemplified  in  his  life.  In  his  business  dealings  with  his 
fellow-men,  this  was  especially  his  creed.  He  bought  and 
sold,  and  was  never  known  to  make  a  trade  that  did  not 
turn  in  his  own  favor ;  hence  he  made  much  lucre,  and 
illustrated  in  his  case  the  truth  of  the  scriptural  assurance 
regarding  the  love  of  money.  He  made  no  new  friends, 
and  as  he  never  had  any  old  ones,  his  list  of  visitors  was 
not  troublesome.  His  poor  relatives  were  not  tolerated ; 
he  regarded  poverty  as  a  crime,  and  washed  his  hands  of 
all  complicity  with  it  that  might  attach  by  recognizing 
them.  He  was  a  patron  of  letters,  and  gave  a  Webster's 
Unabridged  Dictionary,  that  he  had  bought  at  auction,  to 
his  native  place,  on  condition  that  the  town  clerk  should 
read  a  chapter  from  it  each  town  meeting  day  ;  but  the  gift 
was  declined.  As  a  connoisseur  of  art  he  stood  high,  and 
gave  his  preference  for  Jones,  the  house  dauber,  over 
25 


290  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOEK. 

Raphael  as  portrait  painter.  Mr.  Evermore  Smooth, 
though  removed  from  our  midst,  we  shall  long  recall  by 
his  majestic  presence  and  the  peculiarities  that  distin 
guished  him.  He  was  about  five  feet  three  inches  in 
height,  and  was  wont  to  make  his  presence  felt  by  the  ter 
rific  manner  in  which  he  blew  his  nose.  Alas  that  we 
shall  hear  those  echoes  no  more  !  Peace  to  his  ashes  ;  and 
that  they  may  not  be  lost,  which  would  greatly  grieve  him 
if  it  should  happen  that  they  were,  his  heirs  have  erected 
a  granite  obelisk  above  them. 


A   COUNTRY  RAINY  DAY. 

UP  from  the  river  *  sweeps  the  rain, 
Over  the  field  and  over  the  wood, 
And  the  fretful  wind,  with  a  note  of  pain, 
Sobs  and  murmurs  a  sad  refrain, 
Responsive  to  the  angry  flood. 

Oh  the  sight  for  impatient  eyes, 
Scanning  the  desolate,  dreary  day, 

With  its  drenched  earth  and  leaden  skies, 

To  see  the  misty  clouds  arise 

That  shroud  the  hills  there  far  away  I 

I  hear  the  plashing  torrent  pour, 

And  listen  with  a  sense  of  dread ; 
There's  bodily  misery  in  the  roar, 
That  wakens  mental  torture  sore, 
Till  all  of  sweet  content  has  fled. 

*  Piscataqua,  at  Newington. 


A  COUNTRY  RAINY  DAY.  291 

Drip  and  drip  from  yonder  eaves  — 

The  whole  day  long  'tis  dripping  there . 
There's  a  shivering  sound  in  all  the  leaves, 
And  the  feeling  the  wakeful  soul  receives 
Is  one  akin  to  deep  despair. 

The  poultry  in  the  barnyard  stand, 

Damp  and  cheerless,  with  drooping  quills ; 

They  see  no  promise  in  all  the  land, 

Or  joy  that  they  can  understand 

Through  this  grand  culminate  of  ills. 

That  crower  never  will  crow  again, 

That  hen  never  exalt  her  lay ; 
Their  ardor  is  damped  by  the  falling  rain, 
And  they  seem  to  feel,  it  is  very  plain, 

Disgusted  with  the  sloppy  day. 

The  swallows  seek  the  sheltered  place, 

High  up  there  on  the  beams  of  the  barn, 
And  "  touch  and  go  "  they  flit  their  race, 
Showing  their  young,  with  tender  grace, 
The  useful  lesson  they  must  "  larn?' 

The  cattle  on  the  barn-floor  smoke, 

—  A  practice  they  are  here  allowed  — 
While  all  the  boys,  unhindered,  joke, 
'  And  ' ( Uncle  George  "  *  puts  in  his  spoke, 

The  jolliest  among  the  crowd. 

He  cares  not  though  the  day  be  wetj 
"  What  is  the  use,"  he  says,  "  to  cry  ? 

*  A  true  country  philosopher,  who,  when  the  skies  are  the  blackest, 
always  predicts  that  it  is  "  coming  off." 


292  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

'Twill  be  fair  weather,  some  time,  yet  — 
?Tis  not  a  bit  of  use  to  fret, 

Let  the  weather  be  wet  or  dry." 

The  croakers  indoors  sadly  growl 

At  hopes  thus  gloomily  overcast  j 
The  answering  wind  sets  up  a  howl, 
And  the  rain  comes  down  like  a  water-fowl, 
Struck  by  the  north-east  chilling  blast. 

I  hear  the  struggling  of  the  spout, 

As  it  outpours  its  yeasty  flood ; 
I  hear  the  hay-press  workers  shout, 
And  see  Hodge  driving  the  cattle  out 
Through  pools  of  liquefying  mud. 

0  Patience  !  what  a  virtue  thou  ! 

I  feel  thy  need  in  all  my  bones  ; 
John  Bunyan  yonder  in  the  slough 
Was  no  worse  off  than  I  am  now, 

Hearing  these  angry  tempest  tones. 

Eoar  out,  ye  children  on  the  stair, 
And  let  your  voices  do  their  best ; 

We'll  make  believe  the  day  is 'fair, 

And  try  to  mitigate  despair, 

Though  all  our  trying  prove  a  jest. 

Alas  !  alas  !  'tis  even  so ; 

We  cannot  banish  this  one  pain ; 
The  frisky  winds  must  have  their  blow, 
And  all  the  racks  must  overflow, 

That  hold  the  bottles  of  the  rain. 


SIDEWALK  OPERA.  293 


SIDEWALK  OPERA. 

IT  is  wonderful  how  infectious  opera  is.  Whole  neigh 
borhoods  will  be  bewitched  by  it ;  and  men  and  women,  in 
pursuing  the  quiet  avocations  of  life,  will  become  operatic 
in  spite  of  themselves.  Men  ask  the  price  of  a  beefsteak 
with  a  bravura,,  which  is  replied  to  by  a  cavatina ;  the 
morning  salutation  becomes  a  duet,  and  arias  and  ro- 
manzas  are  common  things.  Thus  an  opera  of  house 
holders,  compelled  to  shovel  off  in  front  after  a  snow-storm, 
was  quite  amusing. 

SCENE,  Sidewalk.     Snow  mountains  high. 

SMITH,  BROWN,  JONES,  and  ROBINSON  (yueerly  cos 
tumed,  armed  with  shovels,  prepared  to  level  the  drift). 
Quartette. 

Here  we  are  to  stand  the  brunt : 

We  must  shovel  off  in  front. 

Now  with  blades  to  cleave  the  snow, 

In  we  go,  and  in  we  go, 

Throwing  the  invading  drift 

Far  as  human  nerve  can  lift. 

In,  boys,  in,  and  do  not  stay ; 

It  will  be  as  good  as  play.  \_They  pitch  in. 

SMITH  (resting  on  his  shovel). 

Whew  !  'tis  rough  and  tough  enough: 
I'm  not  made  of  seasoned  stuff. 
I  can't  stand  this  fierce  employ  : 
I'll  knock  off,  and  find  a  boy. 

25* 


294  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

BKOWX,  JOXES,  and  HOBINSON  (resting  on  their  shovels). 
Trio. 

Ah !  peccavi  do  you  cry  ? 
So* soon  from  the  toil  to  fly  ? 
Can  you  thus  the  joy  forego 
Of  this  fresh  and  healthy  glow  ? 
Stay :  think  better  of  it,  Smith, 
Be  a  man  of  nerve  and  pith. 

SMITH  (shouldering  his  shovel,  and  beckoning  to   a  boy 
about  forty  years  old).     13 ass. 

My  hope  to  feel  the  glow  is  dim; 

Therefore  I  resign  to  him.  [Exit. 

[BROWN,  JONES,  and  ROBINSON  resume  shovelling.'] 

BROWN  (resting  on  his  shovel,  and  wiping  his  face). 
By  George  !  this'll  try  the  back  : 
I  thought  I  felt  a  muscle  crack ; 
And,  though  I  feel  all  right  and  brisk, 
I  don't  dare  too  much  to  risk. 
*  Therefore  I  conceive  it  best 
To  call  a  boy  to  do  the  rest. 

JONES  and  KOBINSON  (resting  on  their  shovels).     Duet. 

Ha,  ha !  thus  the  toil  you  shirk, 
While  we  stick  and  do  the  work.  • 
Men  of  pluck,  we'll  trophies  show 
Of  our  struggle  with  the  snow. 

BROWN  (shouldering  his  shovel,  and  calling  another  l)oy 
of  some  fifty  summers  artd  forty-nine  winters).     2d  Bass. 

I  will  leave  you  all  the  fun  , 

Of  hope  achieved  and  victory  won.  [Exit. 


SIDEWALK  OPERA.  295 

[ JONES  and  ROBINSON  resume  shovelling^ 

JONES  (resting  on  his  shovel,  and  putting  his  hand  wildly 
to  his  head). 

Ah !  that  horrid  vertigo ! 

I  was  fearful  'twould  be  so. 

Round  and  round  things  seem  to  spin : 

I  declare  I  must  cave  in. 

ROBINSON  (resting  on  his  shovel).-    Solo. 

Thus  they  drop  from  out  the  ring, 
Tender  as  the  buds  of  spring ; 
Leaving  me  here  all  alone 
To  shovel  on,  while  they  have  flown. 

JONES  (shouldering  his  shovel,  and  calling  a  boy  of  about 
thirty-five  years).      Tenor. 

?Tis  rather  "  going  back/7  I  know ; 

But  vertigo  now  makes  me  go.  [Exit. 

[ROBINSON  resumes  shovelling.] 

ROBINSON  (resting  on  his  shovel,  and  looking  at  about 
twenty  feet  of  drift  he  has  got  to  work  through). 

Faith,  I  think  I'd  best  give  o'er , 
My  dexter  hand  is  very  sore, 
My  hair  and  eyes  are  full  of  snow,  — 
I  guess  I'll  have  the  verti-^0. 

ROBINSON  (shouldering  his  shovel,  and  calling  a  boy  about 
twenty-five).     2d  Tenor. 

Here,  my  lad :  just  put  this  through ; 

I'll  leave  the  glory  all  to  you.  n  [Exit. 


296  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

Quartette  by  PAT,  PHELIM,  TERENCE,  and  MICK,  with 
sliovel  accompaniment. 

Ah,  begorra !  but  this  is  a  good  job  for  us,  onnyhow : 
Blessings  on  the   shnow-storrum   that   kicked   up  sich    a 

lovely  row ! 
With  the  worruk  half  done  by  the  gintlefolk,  who  broke 

down  ;fore  they  did  it, 
Laving  us  to  charge  what  we're  a  mind  to,  by  the  same 

token;    and  we'll  do  that,  you'd  better  belave, 

before  we've  done  wid  it.  [They  shovel. 


MY  FIRST  FUDDLE. 

DON'T  smile,  readers,  and  look  at  each  other,  and  touch 
elbows,  and  wink,  on  reading  my  title,  as  though  it  were  a 
nucleus  of  infinite  "  fuddles  "  that  followed  it  like  the  train 
of  a  comet,  for  it  was  not  so.  I  received  that  day  a  lesson 
which  I  have  always  remembered  —  a  lesson  that  came  to 
me  through  pain  and  mortification  and  sorrow,  and  wrought 
deeply  into  a  heart  not  much  depraved  then,  however  the 
world  has  hardened  and  corrupted  it  since.  Practical  les 
sons  are  the  best,  if  rightly  applied.  Were  the  first  lesson 
in  tobacco-chewing  cherished  as  it  should  be,  there  would 
be  few  tobacco-ch ewers,  as  it  is  only  by  persistence  that 
human  repugnance  to  the  weed  can  be  overcome.  So 
would  it  be  with  drinking,  were  men  wise.  My  first  lesson 
in  "fuddle"  was  my  last.  And  this  was  the  way  it  hap 
pened. 

"  Penhallow's  Field  "  was  a  great  resort  for  ball-players, 
in  old  times,  in  our  town,  and  every  half  holiday  and 


MY  FIRST  FUDDLE.  297 

Fast  Day  a  band  of  merry  players  were  very  certain  to  be 
there.  Penhallow's  Field  lay  just  before  our  door  —  a  fine 
turfy  plain  at  that  time,  though  now  streets  and  houses 
profane  the  precinct  once  sacred  to  athletic  exercise  and 
roistering  mirth.  At  times,  older  boys  would  bring  to  aid 
the  spirit  of  base  a  baser  spirit,  that  would  have  a  contrary 
effect  to  that  intended,  for  instead  of  the  healthy  glow  and 
animation  imparted  by  the  sport,  the  languid  eye  and  lag 
ging  gait  betokened  a  dulled  spirit  and  physical  prostra 
tion  ;  or  else  the  flushed  cheek  and  fierce  glance  bespoke 
the  presence  of  an  unclean  demon  —  lacking  but  the  power 
to  rend  the  possessor,  like  the  spirits  among  the  tombs  — 
that  even  then  showed  signs  of  turbulence  and  wrath,  and 
wakened  quarrelsome  echoes  upon  the  peaceful  air  of  Rock 
Pasture,  of  which  Penhallow's  Field  formed  a  part. 

I  have  since  looked  with  much  interest  for  these  latter 
individuals,  but  they  have  passed  along  life's  highway  and 
gone  beyond,  leaving  no  sign.  The  habits  of  their  youth 
probably  foreshadowed  the  habits  of  their  maturity ;  they 
died,  and  that  was  the  end  of  them,  so  far  as  earth  was 
concerned.  Good  fellows  they  were,  all  of  them,  full  of 
life,  and  generosity,  and  warm-heartedness,  and  my  heart 
took  to  them ;  I  watched  their  older  words  as  they  fell, 
in  not  very  choice  form,  and  learned  them  for  repetition, 
till  I  saw  their  folly. 

But  to  my  "  first  fuddle."  I  never  shall  forget  the  Fast 
Day  afternoon  when  it  occurred  —  warm,  glorious,  and 
green — «as  /was,  in  the  verdancy  of  ten  summers.  It 
comes  to  me,  a  commingling  of  base,  big  boys,  molasses 
candy,  gingerbread,  hard-boiled  eggs,  egg-nog,  and  pepper 
mint  cordial,  the  la'tter  largely  preponderating.  The  egg- 
nog  had  all  been  drunk,  and  most  of  the  eatables  disposed 
of,  when  a  new  expedient  was  devised  for  a  finale  to  the 
hallowed  day.  Such  small  boys  as  were  near  were  sum- 


298  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

moned,  and  the  proposition  was  made  to  them  that  they 
should  have  all  the  candy  there  was  left  if  they  would  drink 
the  balance  of  the  peppermint  cordial.  Tempting  bait ! 
No  wonder  there  was  a  fall  about  that  time,  because  human 
nature  was  \veak,  and  the  cordial  sweet  and  very  strong. 

This  first  step  in  the  lesson  resulted  in  many  irregular 
steps  thereafter,  before  night.  The  insidious  cordial  found 
its  way  through  every  vein  of  my  body,  with  overwhelm 
ing  power,  darting  with  a  lambent  fire  over  nerve  and 
brain,  and  making  my  young  head  unsteady  with  half-de 
lirious  dreams  and  diabolical  hallucinations.  I  remember 
the  whirl  of  excitement  that  every  thing  seemed  to  be  in. 
The  grass  had  become  very  irregular  in  its  surface,  and  I 
found  myself  stepping  up  often  to  surmount  the  hillocks 
that  were  rising  before  me ;  the  fence  in  front  of  our  house 
had  become  suddenly  serpentine,  wriggling  along  its  entire 
length,  like  a  big  snake,  and  I  remember  that  the  gate  bad 
contracted,  because  I  struck  both  sides  in  subsequently 
attempting  to  pass  through  it.  I  saw  more  than  fifty  grin 
ning  faces  around  me,  though  they  could  have  belonged  to 
but  eight  boys ;  and  they  seemed  all  dancing  an  infernal 
measure  in  a  cabalistic  ring,  with  me  for  a  centre,  and  bony 
fingers  pointed  at  me  with  horrid  derision,  till  in  the  whirl 
I  fell  down.  But  I  had  no  suspicion  of  what  was  the  mat 
ter  with  me,  and  got  up  again.  Then  came  the  experience 
of  the  gate  mentioned  above.  I  saw  my  brothers,  as  I  en 
tered  the  door,  look  at  each  other  and  laugh.  They  knew 
what  it  all  meant,  but  they  said  nothing. 

Amidst  it  all  I  retained  a  self-consciousness  that  sub 
dued  the  delirium,  and  a  sense  of  duty  ran  through  my 
wildest  vagary.  Above  all  was  the  impression  that  I 
had  to  go  about  a  mile  away,  around  the  old  North  Mill 
Pond,  and  get  a  pair  of  boots  that  had  been  left  there  to 
be  repaired  j  and  I  started  off  to  perform  the  task,  with  a 


MY  FIRST  FUDDLE.  299 

decided  idea  that  a  more  rough  and  uncomfortable  road  I 
had  never  travelled.  This  was  before  Jordan  had  put  in 
its  claim  for  special  severity.  How  I  got  over  it  I  never 
really  knew,  but  found  myself,  some  time  after,  seated  on 
a  shoemaker's  bench  making  free  with  the  hammers  of 
the  workmen,  pounding  upon  lapstones,  and  taking  great 
liberties  with  awls,  lasts,  and  knives,  that  lay  within  reach, 
kicking  the  bucket  containing  the  wax,  and  committing 
other  outrages,  as  the  auctioneer  says,  "  too  numerous  to 
mention."  The  men  touched  their  noses  significantly,  and 
winked  at  each  other,  and  looked,  as  I  thought,  very  silly  j 
and  I  remember  that  I,  with  more  than  ten-year-old  wis 
dom,  told  them  they  were  acting  like  "  infernal  fools." 

I  got  up  to  go  home,  and  took  a  path  straight  for  the 
pond,  with  a  vague  impression  that  I  was  to  ford  the 
stream.  As  I  reached  it,  however,  my  knees  failed  me, 
and  I  fell  pronely  upon  the  shore,  in  ignominious  help 
lessness.  Were  any  being  to  have  stood  by  my  elbow  and 
urged  my  acceptance  of  the  universe,  or  any  other  tract 
of  territory,  on  the  condition  that  I  got  up  and  walked,  I 
should  not  have  been  able  to  do  it.  Utterly  helpless  ;  and 
yet  amid  it  all  a  light  broke  upon  me  that  revealed  the  true 
state  of  the  case,  so  that  when  the  men  who  had  watched 
me  from  the  window  came  down  to  me,  and  asked  what 
was  the  matter,  I  responded  with  an  honesty  worthy  of  an 
older  head,  "  I'm  drunk !  " 

They  took  me  up  very  tenderly  and  carried  me  to  the 
house  where  they  lived.  And  here  memory  recalls  a  be 
nevolent  face  encircled  by  a  white  cap  border,  a  blazing 
wood  fire  over  which  a  tea  kettle  is  simmering,  a  Dutch 
oven  containing  a  quantity  of  bubbling  hog's  fat,  and  a 
large  milk-pan  full  of  doughnuts  by  the  side  of  the  fire 
place.  I  remember  that  venerable  figure  standing  by  my 
side  as  I  sat  by  the  fire,  with  kindness  and  sympathy  upon 


300  PARTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

her  face,  and  a  cup  of  warm  water  in  her  hand,  which  she 
urged  nie  to  drink.  I  remember,  too,  what  followed  —  a 
nausea  —  a  spasm  —  and  a  milk-pan  full  of  doughnuts 
spoiled  forever ! 

My  brother  Bob  came  across  the  pond  in  a  boat  and  fer 
ried  me  home,  and  still  before  me  is  the  scene  that  await 
ed  me  —  my  mother's  and  sister's  tears,  my  grandmother's 
pitiful  gaze,  as  if  an  angel  looked  through  her  beautiful 
eyes,  ray  father's  grave  and  sorrowful  earnestness,  my 
brother's  mirth.  He  had  got  over  his  first  fuddle  some 
time  before. 

Well,  there  I  sat,  when  I  got  home,  the  centre  of  inter 
est.  Never  was  a  little  fellow  of  ten,  clothed  in  no  very 
sweet  habiliments,  an  object  of  more  consideration,  and 
never  did  shame  weigh  more  heavily  on  mortal  con 
science  than  on  mine,  with  the  feel  of  those  eyes  upon  me. 
I  braced  myself  up  with  a  tipsy  resolution  that  I  would 
brave  it  out.  The  silence  was  painful,  and  I  essayed  to 
break  it  with  a  remark ;  but  the  remark,  like  Macbeth's  amen, 
stuck  in  my  throat.  My  tongue  seemed  as  big  as  two  ordi 
nary  beef  tongues,  and  filled  my  mouth  full.  I  couldn't 
articulate  for  the  life  of  me.  I  gave  that  up,  but  attempted 
,to  look  unconcerned.  It  was  a  lamentable  failure  ;  for  the 
first  thing  I  saw  was  my  father's  benign  and  sorrowing  look, 
—  sorrow  without  reproach,  —  that  sank  into  my  soul,  and 
remains  there  till  this  day,  more  permanently  than  though 
enforced  by  a  hurricane  of  words.  His  was  no  temper  to 
storm.  The  elements  of  gentleness  and  kindness  were  so 
developed  in  him,  there  was  no  room  for  anger,  or  for  any 
harsher  feeling  than  sorrow.  That  look  was  so  full  of  dis 
appointment,  and  regret,  and  grief,  that  encounter  it  again 
I  would  not  for  the  world ;  and  'gathering  myself  up  the 
best  way  I  could,  I  crawled  off  to  my  little  bed  in  the 
attic  to  sleep  off  my  first  fuddle,  and,  if  possible,  a  remem- 


MY  FIEST  FUDDLE.  301 

brance  of  the  mortification  I  felt.  The  first  I  accom 
plished,  but  the  latter  I  have  never  succeeded  in  doing, 
though  more  than  forty  years  have  since  swept  over  me 
their  fates  of  .good  and  evil.  That  old  man's  gaze  has 
never  left  my  mind,  and  even  as  I  write  I  recall  it.  He 
gave  me  no  lecture  besides  this  —  no  homily  on  sobriety, 
no  expostulation,  no  threatening.  As  the  eye  of  man  is 
said  to  be  able  to  check  the  fiercest  madman,  so  was  the 
unclean  spirit  in  me,subdued  by  a  look,  and  was  from  that 
moment  dethroned. 

I  tell  this  in  no  vain-glorious  spirit  of  boasting,  I  tell  it 
in  no  "  I  am  holier  than  thou  "  mood,  but  give  it  as  a  single 
example  of  the  good  effect  of  a  good  influence  timely  ex 
erted.  I  do  confess  me  to  a  liking  for  fluids,  however,  and 

when  my  friend  Colonel •  levelled  his  glass  to  me  at 

the  Ancients'  dinner,  and  smiled  in  the  urbane  manner 
usual  with  him,  I  could  not  avoid  sipping  a  little  response  j 
besides,  I  have  not  entirely  conquered  my  tenderness  for 
cider,  especially  when  it  conies  commended  as  a  legal 
beverage  by  the  solemn  enactment  of  the  state. 


LITTLE  WINNIE,  with  his  cheeks  red  and  glowing,  was 
met  by  a  kind  old  clergyman,  who  stooped  down  and  pat 
ted  him  on  his-  head,  saying,  "  Well,  my  little  man,  what 
makes  your  cheeks  so  red  ?  "  The  bright  eyes  looked  up 
laughingly.  "  I  s'pose,"  said  he,  "  'tis  'cause  they  are  red 

hot." 

26 


302  PAETINGTONIAN   PATCHWOEK. 


SAN   GAREE'S   RIDE. 

FLL  tell  you  a  tale,  if  you'll  list  to  me, 
Of  the  ride  that  was  rid  by  San  Garee, 
On  a  night  in  the  K.  N.  Fifty-Five : 
There  are  many  witnesses  alive 
Who  were  on  the  spot  the  thing  to  see. 

He  said  to  his  friend,  ['  The  constable's  come, 

But  as  you'll  see,  I'm  up  to'  trap  ; 

They  think  they've  wholly  stopped  our  rum 

By  cutting  off  the  tavern's  tap. 

I'll  show  'em  a  trick  worth  two  of  that, 

For  I'll  away  to  the  opposite  flat, 

Ready  to  ride  to  Medford  town 

And  bring  the  real  'critter'  down, 

In  spite  of  the  tyrannous  Maine  law's  frown  ! " 

Then  he  said  good  night,  and  a  jug  he  took, 
And  crossed  the  bridge  that  spanned  the  brook, 
Just  as  the  moon,  half  over  the  bay, 
Shed  its  beam  where  a  hay-cart  waiting  lay  — 
A  phantom  cart,  with  slats  upright, 
Through  which  the  moon  shone  still  and  bright, 
And  a  huge  black  hulk  of  a  shadow  was  cast 
On  the  fence,  as  San  Garee  hurried  past. 

A  clatter  of  hoofs  rang  through  the  town, 

Lickity-cut,  at  a  terrible  pace, 

And  the  oldest  stagers  in  the  place 

Vowed  that  such  riding  they'd  never  known  : 

That  was  all !  and  yet  from  his  mission  that  night, 

A  dozen  men  ere  morning  were  tight ! 


SAN  GAKEE'S  KIDE.  303 

It  was  ten  by  the  village  clock 

When  he  crossed  the  bridge  into  Medford  town. 

He  smelt  the  fragrance  of  the  dock, 

And  heard  the  hum  of  the  'stillery  dam, 

And  the  sound  of  a  distant  front  door  slam, 

As  folks  to  their  naps  were  settling  down  5 

And  he  was  fast  asleep  in  his  bed, 

The  one  on  whom  San  Garee  did  call, 

Who  filled  his  jug  with  the  fluid  red, 

And  didn't  mind  the  law  at  all. 

The  rest  is  soon  told.     He  came  as  he  went, 
With  no  policeman  on  the  scent, 
His  prize  securely  lashed  to  his  side, 
That  ere  he  started  he  twice  had  tried, 
Dashing  along  through  road  and  lane 
With  eager  heart  and  urgent  rein ; 
And  under  the  trees,  by  the  river's  brink, 
Stopping  only  to  take  a  drink ! 

So  on  that  night  rode  San  Garee, 

And  so  through  the  night  his  horse's  heels 

To  wakeful  ears  made  noisy  appeals,  — 

Appeals  that  mocked  curiosity  j  — 

A  clatter  in  darkness  that  passed  by  the  door, 

As  homeward  his  trophy  the  night  rider  bore  ! 

•Now,  'mong  the  rummest  things  that  are  past, 

Recounted  often  in  circles  fast, 

In  hours  of  sport,  and  mirth,  and  fun,  » 

They  tell  the  story  with  shouts  of  glee 

How  the  Maine-law  people  were  done 

By  the  midnight  ride  of  San  Garee. 


304  PAUTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


THE  VICTIM  OF  INVITATIONS. 

MR.  TOTT  was  a  very  excellent  man,  so  everybody  said ; 
was  largely  social  and  capable  of  much  enjoyment,  loved 
the  good  things  of  the  world,  and  had  a  thousand  friends; 
but  he  was  unhappy.  He  was  haunted  by  a  demon.  Not 
by  a  thing  of  "  gristly  bone,"  but  a  shadowy  demon  that 
ran  in  and  out  of  his  mind  like  the  worms  in  the  brain  of 
"  Alonzo  the  Brave,'7  sung  in  the  ballad,  but  not  so  visible 
as  were  those  interesting  reptiles,  working  the  very  mis 
chief  with  him.  This  was  exceeding  sensitiveness.  He 
not  only  shrank  from  putting  himself  forward,  but  would 
not  allow  others  to  do  it  for  him.  He  hung  back  continu 
ally  and  became  a  man  with  timidity,  like  a  garment,  cling 
ing  to  him.  He  was  in  a  constant  dread  all  the  time,  lest 
he  should  be  singled  out  for  some  distinction.  Particular 
ly  he  dreaded  invitations  to  dinner.  He  was  glad  when 
others  got  invitations,  and  loved  to  hear  the  music  of  knife 
and  fork  that  came  to  him  from  a  distance,  and  it  gave 
him  pleasure  to  look  in  through  open  doors  revealing  long 
lines  of  pleasant  faces  by  the  table ;  but  he  was  never  to 
be  found  where  men  met  to  meat.  He  was  social,  but 
couldn't  mingle  with  his  fellows  except  in  the  street,  or  in 
places  where  eating  was  not  involved.  '  He  once  came  very 
near  being  seduced  by  an  invitation  to  a  lobster  salad ;  but 
though,  next  to  virtue,  he  loved  lobster  salad,  he  gave 
it  up  just  as  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go.  He  couldn't 
account  for  this  timidity  —  nobody  could  —  and  he  was 
very  miserable. 

It  is  always  the  case  that  that  which  we  most  dread  will 
happen  to  us.  A  man  that  dreads  fire  is  more  apt  to  have 


THE  VICTIM  OF  INVITATIONS.  305 

his  house  burn  than  one  who  cares  nothing  about  it ;  one 
who  dreads  dogs  always  has  a  regiment  of  them  to  annoy 
him  around  his  house ;  and  I  knew  a  man  who  had  a 
mortal  antipathy  to  bears,  that  was  chased  for  three  days 
in  State  Street  by  the  brokers. 

This  is  a  very  queer  fact.  So,  as  poor  Tott  dreaded  in 
vitations  to  dine  out,  did  they  come  upon  him.  Every 
body  invited  him  to  dinner,  and  ten  thousand  lies  did  he 
invent  in  the  course  of  the  year  to  evade  these  invitations. 
Many  of  his  inventions  were  ingenious  and  original.  With 
one  he  had  "just  eaten,"  when  he  was  as  gaunt  as  a  fam 
ished  wolf ;  with  another,  a  "  previous  engagement "  pre 
vented  him ;  and  with  another,  a  friend  "  was  coming  to 
dine  with  him."  Like  all  liars,  he  at  last  got  found  out. 

"  Tott,"  said  Smith,  one  day,  meeting  him  in  the  .street, 
"  come  and  dine  with  me  to-day.  Got  some  fine  birds,  -— 
woodcock,  —  I  know  you  like  7em;  and,  look  here,  some 
of  the  best  wine  you  ever  drank." 

Tott's  mouth  watered  at  the  bill  of  fare  j  but  his  diffi 
dence  came  over  him,  and  he  replied,  — 

"Can't  think  of  it;  I'm  engaged  to  dine  with  Brown. 
Thank'ee  for  your  invitation,  though,  just  as  much.  Good 

v 

Tott  turned  away,  vexed  with  himself  for  refusing,  when, 
just  as  he  had  turned  the  corner,  he  met  Brown. 

"Tott,"  said  Brown,  shaking  him  warmly  by  the  hand, 
"  glad  I've  met  with  you.  I  want  you  to  dine  with  me  to 
day.  Banfield,  up  in  New  Hampshire,  has  just  sent  me 
down  some  salmon  trout,  — •  prime  fellows,  —  fresh  and 
clean  —  eh,  boy !  —  that's  your  sort.  Will  you  come  ?  Say 
yes." 

Tott  trembled.  It  was  a  proposition  sufficient  to  tempt 
an  anchorite.  It  was  hard  to  resist;  but  his  old  habit 
came  over  him,  and  he  replied,  — 

26* 


306  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Faith,  Brown,  it's  unfortunate,  but  I've  just  engaged  to 
take  dinner  with  Smith.  Devilish  unfortunate  to  have 
two  such  chances  at  once.  Hope  you'll  have  a  good  time. 
Farewell." 

They  parted.  Later  in  the  morning  Tott  dropped  into 
the  office  of  a  friend. 

"  Ah,  Tott,"  said  he,  "  'tis  getting  near  dinner  time  j  I 
should  be  glad  to  have  you  take  dinner  with  me." 

"  Can't  possibly,"  replied  he ;  "  I  expect  a  friend  from 
New  York  to  dine  with  me  to-day." 

At  this  moment  Smith  entered. 

*"  "  My  friend  Tott,"  I  must  insist  on  your  going  home  to 
dine  with  me.  Wife  and  the  girls  will  be  glad  to  see  you 
Come ! " 

"  But,"  said  Tott,  "  you  remember  my  previous  engage 
ment  "  — 

"  What,  to  dine  with  Brown  ?  Nonsense !  Come 
along." 

"  He  just  told  me  he  expected  a  friend  from  New  York 
to  dine  with  him,"  said  the  friend,  winking  at  Smith. 

Poor  Tott  was  cornered ;  but  putting  a  good  face  on  it, 
he  insisted  upon  it  that  he  was  to  dine  with  Brown,  and 
that  Brown  had  just  returned  from  New  York,  and  so  of  ^ 
course  he  was  all  straight. 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Brown  entered. 

"  Halloo !  "  said  he  ;  "  all  right ;  now,  Smith,  just  release 
him  from  his  engagement,  will  you,  and  let  him  come  and 
dine  with  me  ?  Do,  there's  a  good  fellow." 

"  Why,  he  told  me  he  tyad  engaged  to  dine  with  you." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Tott,  in  despair,  "  you  must  both  ex 
cuse  me,  as  I  am  engaged  to  a  sit-down  with  a  friend  at 
Parker's." 

He  went  out,  and  that  day  dined  on  clam  chowder  and 
a  doughnut  at  Learned's. 


THE  VICTIM  OF  INVITATIONS.  307 

Poor  fellow !  thereafter  he  was  spotted,  and  every  one 
invited  him  ten  times  more  pertinaciously  than  ever  to  din 
ner.  He  was  in  constant  dread,  and  at  times  became  very 
nearly  drawn  into  a  dinner. 

A  pale-faced,  grave-looking  gentleman,  holding  a  posi 
tion  under  government,  came  in  one  day  about  dinner  time, 
and  approaching  Tott,  asked  him  if  he  would  go  with  him 
to  be  a  witness  in  a  case  that  affected  him  vitally. 

"  You  know,"  said  the  grave  gentleman,  "  that  I  was 
sick  last  winter,  and  a  word  from  you  will  substantiate  a 
matter  that  is  now  involved  in  a  little  doubt.  Will  you 
go?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Tott,  putting  on  his  coat ;  "  where  are 
we  to  go  ?  " 

"  To  City  Hall,"  was  the  reply. 

Soon  they  arrived  at  a  point  near  that  locality,  when  the 
grave  gentleman  conducted  Tott  into  Hall's  eating-house, 
redolent  with  the  odors  of  turtle  soup,  and  turning  to  Tott, 
he  said,  — 

"  What  I  want  you  to  witness  is  the  excellent  quality  of 
this  turtle  soup  and  my  own  excellent  appetite.  Sit  down 
and  take  some.  Mr.  Hall,  my  friend  Tott." 

"  I  vow,"  said  Tott,  "  it  is  very  unfortunate,  but  I  dined 
at  Parker's  not  more  than  fifteen  minutes  ago,  and  couldn't 
eat  another  mouthful  if  I  should  die." 

His  mouth  watered  as  he  spoke,  and  the  tears  gathered 
in  his  eyes;  but  he  had  spoken,  and  wishing  the  grave 
gentleman  a  good  appetite,  and  bidding  Hall  an  affection 
ate  farewell,  went  back  to  his  tumbler  of  cider  and  piece  of 
pie  at  Loring's. 

Tott  grew  emaciated  and  weak  daily  under  his  invita 
tions,  and  so  nervous  that  he  sometimes  refused  before  he 
was  asked.  Every  one  who  approached  him  he  thought 
was  about  to  invite  him  to  dinner.  One  day  a  stranger 


308  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

met  him  in  the  street  and  inquired  the  way  to  the  Tremont 
House. 

"  Thank  you  kindly,  sir,"  said  he ;  "  hut  I  am  positively 
engaged  to-day,  to  dine  with  my  friend  Everett.  Oh,  ask 
pardon  !  Tremont  House  ?  There  it  is,  sir." 

There  was  a  vacant  chair,  not  long  after  this,  in  Tott's 
domicile,  and  a  jury  of  twelve  grave  men  sat  on  a  coat  and 
hat  found  on  Charlestown  Bridge,  who  brought  in  the  ver 
dict  that  as  Tott  was  not  to  he  found,  it  was  inferahle  from 
the  vacant  hat  and  coat  that  he  had  slipped  away,  by  water 
or  otherwise,  to  avoid  being  invited  to  dinner. 


THE  GREEN  GOOSE. 

MR.  BOGARDUS  "  gin  a  treat," 
And  a  green  goose,  best  of  birds  to  eat, 
Delicious,  s-avory,  fat,  and  sweet, 
Formed  the  dish  the  guests  to  greet; 

But  such,  we  know, 

Is  small  for  a  "  blow," 

And  many  times  around  won't  go ; 
So  Mr.  Bogardus  chanced  to  reflect, 
And  with  a  wisdom  circumspect, 
He  sent  round  cards  to  parties  select, 
Some  six  or  so  the  goose  to  dissect, 

The  day  and  hour  defining ; 
And  then  he  laid  in  lots  of  things, 
That  might  have  served  as  food  for  kings, 


THE  GREEN  GOOSE.  309 

Liquors  drawn  from  their  primal  springs, 
And  all  that  grateful  comfort  brings 
To  epicures  in  dining. 

But  Mr.  Bogardus's  brother  Sim, 
With  moral  qualities  rather  dim, 
Copied  the  message  sent  to  him,  * 

In  his  most  clerkly  writing, 
And  sent  it  round  to  Tom,  and  Dick, 
And  Harry,  and  Jack,  and  Frank,  and  Nick, 
And  many  more,  to  the  green  goose  "  pick  " 

Most  earnestly  inviting ; 
He  laid  it  on  the  green  goose  thick, 

Their  appetites  exciting. 

;Twas  dinner  time  by  the  Old  South  clock  j 
Bogardus  waited  the  sounding  knock 
Of  friends  to  come  at  the  moment,  "  chock," 
To  try  his  goose,  his  game,  his  hock, 

And  hoped  they  would  not  dally ; 
When  one,  and  two,  and  three,  and  four, 
And  running  up  the  scale  to  a  score, 
And  adding  to  it  many  more, 
Who  all  their  Sunday  fixings  wore, 
Came  in  procession  to  the  door, 
And  crowded  in  on  his  parlor  floor, 
Filling  him  with  confusion  sore, 
Like  an  after-election  rally  ! 

"  Gentlemen,"  then  murmured  he, 
"  To  what  unhoped  contingency 
Am  I  owing  for  this  felicity, 
A  visit  thus  unexpected  ?  " 


810  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

Then  they  held  their  cards  before  his  eyes, 
And  he  saw,  to  his  infinite  surprise, 
That  some  sad  dog  had  taken  a  rise 
On  him,  and  his  hungry  friends  likewise, 

And  whom  he  half  suspected ; 
But  there  was  Sim, 
Of  morals  dim, 
With  a  face  as  long,  and  dull,  and  grim, 

As  though  he  the  ire  reflected. 

Then  forth  the  big  procession  went, 
With  mirth  and  anger  equally  blent ; 
To  think  they  didn't  get  the  scent 
Of  what  the  cursed  missive  meant 

Annoyed  some  of  Jem  deeply ; 

They  felt  they'd  been  caught  by  a  green  goose  bait, 
And  plucked  and  skinned,  and  then,  light  weight, 

Had  been  sold  very  cheaply. 

MORAL. 

Keep  your  weather  eye  peeled  for  trap, 
For  we  never  know  just  what  may  hap, 

Nor  if  we  shall  be  winners ; 
%    Remembering  that  one  green  goose 
Will  be  of  very  little  use 

'Mongst  twenty  hungry  sinners. 


MISSING.  311 


MISSINtt 

ON  the  morning  of  August  20,  18 — ,  the  following  para 
graph  appeared  in  the  columns  of  the  Elmwood  Adver 
tiser  :  — 

"MISSING. — Mr.  George  Wayne,  of  this  town,  has  mysteriously 
disappeared  from  his  home,  and  his  friends  are  plunged  into  the 
deepest  anxiety  regarding  him.  The  last  seen  of  him,  he  was  on  his 
market  wagon,  proceeding  towards  this  place  from  Centre  Hebron, 
where  he  had  been  with  a  load  of  produce ;  and,  as  he  had  received 
considerable  money,  it  is  feared  that  he  has  been  the  victim  of  foul 
play.  The  team  reached  home  without  him.  Every  exertion  has 
been  made  to  ascertain  his  fate,  but  all  have  been  fruitless." 

People  might  well  be  startled,  as  they  were,  to  read  this, 
.for  George  Wayne  was  widely  known  as  the  most  success 
ful  farmer  in  the  valley  of  Sedge  River,  that  ran  through 
Elmwood,  and  was  much  esteemed  for  his  many  estimable 
qualities.  His  energy  and  prudence  had  secured  for  him  a 
competence;  and  he  had  a, worthy  wife  and  two  fine  boys, 
with  whom  he  lived  very  happily.  He  had  no  encum 
brances,  no  troublesome  obligations  to  meet,  and,  with 
pleasant  domestic  relations,  no  other  reason  for  his  disap 
pearance  than  that  of  "  foul  play  "  could  be  entertained. 
The  grief  of  his  family  was  intense,  and  excited  the  sym 
pathy  of  all  for  many  miles  around,  who  were  ready  to 
join  in  any  effort  that  might  be  made  to  obtain  a  solution 
of  the  mystery. 

Accordingly  advertisements  were  despatched  in  every 
direction,  describing  the  missing  man,  and  offering  a  large 
sum  for  the  recovery  of  his  body,  if  dead,^  or  information 
regarding  him,  if  living.  The  town  authorities  also  took 


812  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

the  matter  up, 'and  increased  the  amount  of  the  reward 
offered  by  the  friends  of  Wayne.  The  promptness  with 
which  all  this  was  done  attested  to  the  estimation  in  which 
lie  was  held ;  and  there  was,  besides,  a  desire  to  free  the 
vicinity  from  the  stigma  that  attached  to  the  fact  that  a 
prominent  citizen  should  thus  disappear  at  mid-day,  and  no 
clew  be  had  thereto ;  for  no  like  event  had  transpired  there 
before,  and  the  people  were  jealous  of  the  reputation  of 
the  place. 

The  traders  with  whom  "Wayne  had  last  dealt  at  Centre 
Hebron  were  found,  who  gave  an  account  of  all. that  had 
happened  up  to  the  time  of  his  parting  from  them  on  the 
day  of  his  disappearance.  They  certified  to  his  sobriety, 
and  his  usual  correctness,  having  seen  nothing  about  him 
indicating  any  mental  disturbance.  He  had  spoken  of  his 
.family  to  them  in  the  most  pleasant  manner,  arici  had  pur 
chased  several  articles  for  his  wife  and  children,  that  were 
found  in  the  wagon  on  its  return.  Then  suspicions,  point 
ing  in  sundry  directions,  made  the  lives  of  several  vaga 
bonds  in  the  yicinity  uncomfortable,  and  some  who  were 
over-zealous  made  small  scruple  in  stating  their  belief 
that  So-and-so  or  So-and-so  had  a  hand  in  it,  as  would 
eventually  be  found  out.  These  were  watched  to  see  if 
they  gave  any  evidence  of  possessing  any  more  money 
than  usual ;  but  no  signs  were  seen  that  denoted  any 
change,  and  so  suspicion  banked  its  fires,  but  did  not  let 
them  die  out. 

At  length,  when  the  zest  of  public  feeling  had  worn  off, 
some  boys,  at  play  in  a  distant  wood  by  the  side  of  a  little 
pool,  had  found  poor  Wayne's  coat  that  he  had  worn  on 
the  day  of  his  disappearance,  with  its  pockets  unrifled  of 
its  money  and  papers,  and  still  containing  some  trifling 
presents  that  he  had  purchased  for  his  children  at  Centre 
Hebron.  This  was  a  vindication  of  those  suspected  j  the 


MISSING.  313 

spirit  of  search  revived  again  ;  the  pond  was  drained  in 
expectation  of  finding  the  missing  one ;  but  all  in  vain. 
The  secret  was  locked  in  the  chamber  of  mysterious  events, 
of  which  110  one  could  find  the  key,  and  the  excitement 
waned  with  nothing  to  feed  it. 

Mrs.  Wayne  and  her  two  boys,  George  and  Harry,  —  the 
former  six  and  the  latter  four  years  old,  —  were  objects  of 
deep  commiseration,  and  every  aid  was  extended  to  them 
in  settling  the  estate,  which  proved  to  be  in  a  condition  to 
place  them  beyond  want.  The  boys  were  sent  to  school, 
and  their  mother,  relinquishing  all  hope  of  hearing  from 
her  absent  husband,  settled  down  into  a  resigned  state  of 
widowhood.  She  was  yet  young,  and  very  good  looking, 
and,  though  she  had  loved  Wayne  very  devotedly,  her 
weeds  soon  grew  tiresome.  Her  spirit  was  one  that  dwelt 
with  the  living  more  than  with  the  dead ;  and  when  con 
vinced  that  the  dear  departed  had  really  gone,  she  listened 
to  the  blandishments  of  one  more  eloquent  than  the  grave, 
and  gave  her  hand  to  him  for  the  sake  of  her  children, 
who  "  needed  a  masculine  hand  to  guide  and  correct  them." 
Gossips  condemned  her  for  marrying  again ;  but  she  knew 
best,  of  course.  The  care  of  the  children  decided  it. 

So  time  slipped  by,  and  George  Wayne  was  about  as 
completely  forgotten  as  though  he  had  never  existed.  A 
new  class  succeeded  him,  and  the  world  got  along  very 
well  without  him,  as  it  will  without  us,  when  we,  too,  shall 
have  passed  on  among  the  multitude  that  people  the  great 
Beyond.  His  children  grew  up  to  be  industrious  and 
worthy  men,  their  father's  name  but  a  tradition  to  them ; 
and  their  mother  was  again  a  widow,  she  having  found, 
with  her  children,  much  more  masculine  guidance  and  di 
rection  than  she  had  estimated  when  she  married. 

Of  the  two  boys,  Harry  inherited  his  father's  spirit,  and 

became  one  of  the  best  farmers  in  the  country,  showing  by 
27 


314  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

his  improvements  and  his  sturdy  crops  what  he  knew  about 
farming,  supporting  his  mother,  and  proving  by  his  public 
spirit  that  he  was  a  worthy  son  of  a  worthy  sire.  Every 
one  of  those  who  could  recall  the  father,  though  they  were 
few,  averred  that  Harry  was  like  him  as  one  pea  is  like 
another.  George,  like  too  many  farmers'  boys,  took  a  dis 
taste  for  the  plodding  life  of  the  farm,  and  went  to  the 
city,  where  he  embarked  in  trade  with  bright  hopes  of  a 
fortune,  with  really  but  one  chance  in  a  thousand  of  its 
realization.  Integrity  and  industry  secured  him  friends, 
and  his  shrewdness  and  foresight  won  him  position.  He 
made  money,  and  was  on  the  high  road  to  affluence  at 
thirty. 

Among  his  city  friends  was  a  family  of  elegant  refine 
ment  by  the  name  of  Francis,  the  head  of  which,  Solon 
Francis,  Esq.,  had  made  his  acquaintance  in  the  walks  of 
trade,  and  had  invited  him  to  his  house  through  respect 
for  his  many  virtues,  introduced  him  to  his  family,  and 
made  him  a  welcome  comer.  He  was  quite  good  looking, 
very  intelligent,  could  sing  and  play,  was  cheerful  and  hap 
py,  and  the  father's  spirit  of  welcome  became  also  that  of 
the  daughters,  —  three  of  them,  —  who  looked  upon  him 
"  as  a  brother."  Ah,  what  a  sweet  illusion  there  is  regard 
ing  this  relation  !  and,  though  "just  like  a  brother  "'sounds 
perfectly  rational  and  very  harmless,  there  is  too  often  a 
feeling  mingling  with  the  adopted  relation  that  admits  of 
a  different,  though  not  more  tender,  interpretation. 

No  one  saw  any  danger,  however ;  and  the  young  peo 
ple  played,  and  sang,  and  laughed  together,  as  happy  and 
as  unconcerned  as  birds.  For  months  this  continued,  the 
old  gentleman  well  pleased  at  their  enjoyment.  The 
mother  of  the  young  ladies,  had  she  been  alive,  might 
have  foreseen  and  told  the  danger  j  but  she  had  been  for 
some  years  dead.  [I  am  sorry  to  introduce  these  mortu- 


MISSING.  315 

ary  episodes  into  a  cheerful  story,  —  first  George  Wayne, 
and  then  the  mother  of  these  charming  girls,  —  but  the 
exigency  of  the  plot  demands  it.  I  have,  however,  done 
better  than  most  tale- writers,  who. dismiss  the  mothers  of 
their  stories  with  but  one  pale-faced  girl,  to  live  in  a  state 
of  uselessness,  and  make  some  spooney  fellow  "happy"  in 
the  future,  for  Mrs.  Francis  left  three,  and  one  son,  who 
was  a  shipmaster,  whom  George  Wayne  had  not  seen.] 
She  would  have  seen  that  all  the  charming  Platonisms, 
which  made  the  society  o£  these  young  people  so  pleasant 
to  each  other,  might  one  day  harden  into  a  sentiment 
more  dangerous  to  their  peace,  which,  if  she  could  not 
thwart,  she  might  control;  but  the  singing,  and  playing, 
and  laughing  went  on,  all  gliding  along  upon  a  summer  tide, 
without  a  thought  of  danger  beneath. 

The  names  of  the  three  Graces,  which  made  George 
Wayne's  life  pass  so  blissfully,  were  Mary,  Alice,  and  Jen 
nie  ;  but  the  introduction  of  all  of  them  is  merely  a  mat 
ter  of  courtesy,  as  my  veracious  story  has  to  do  with  but 
one  —  Alice,  the  sweetest  and  most  sparkling  of  them  all. 
She  was  indeed  a  radiant  creature,  though  to  save  my  life 
I  could  not  say  whether  her  hair  was  "  pale  gold,'7  which 
is  flax  color,  or  "tawny  gold,"  which  is  copper  color,  or 
whether  her  eyes  were  like  a  pansy,  or  a  tansy,  or  a  violet, 
or  her  complexion  like  the  bloom  of  an  August  pea'eh  in 
the  sun,  or  a  brunette,  dusky,  like  the  twilight.  All  I 
know  about  her  is,  that  she  was  beautiful,  vivacious,  sensi 
ble;  could  converse,  sing,  play,  and  do  housework;  dressed 
in  charming  taste,  and  never  broke  her  father's  heart  by 
any  demand  for  extravagant  trimmings,  in  which  latter  re 
gard  her  daughters,  in  their  day,  follow  her  example.  But 
I  anticipate. 

Dickens,  commencing  his  story  of  the  Cricket  on  the 
Hearth,  says,  "  The  kettle  began  it."  I  will  not  pretend 


816  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

to  say  on  which  side  the  "liking"  began  that  settled  the 
fate  of  George  Wayne  and  Alice  Francis ;  but  by  some 
means  they  soon  found  out  that  the  "just  like  a  brother  " 
position  was  not  tenable.  Neither  can  I  tell  how  it  was 
discovered ;  but  so  it  was,  and  the  brotherly  and  sisterly 
delusion  went  down  like  unpopular  stocks  at  the  Brokers' 
Board.  Why  it  was  that  Alice,  and  not  all  of  the  sisters, 
should  fall  in  love  with  George,  is  another  mystery,  of 
which  there  are  so  many  to  bother  one,  and  I  refuse  all 
further  mention  of  them. 

George's  visits  to  the  sisters  soon  had  a  different  mo 
tive,  and  it  was  not  disagreeable  at  all  when  the  change 
came.  Such  of  the  facts  as  they  had  not  guessed  they 
got  by  inquiries  from  Alice ;  and  she,  not  less  communica 
tive  than  the  rest  of  her  sex,  had  kept  them  posted  re 
garding  the  progress  of  events.  The  father  knew  of  it 
with  much  satisfaction,  and  George  was  installed  in  the 
family  affections  as  the  accredited  lover  of  Miss  Alice. 
He  had  also  made  his  mother  the  recipient  of  the  secret 
of  his  affections,  so  far  as  there  was  any  secret  about  it, 
and  she  had  breathed  a  blessing  on  the  purposed  union  in 
eight  long  pages  of  note-paper.  An  interchange  of  visits 
had  also  taken  place,  and  a  mutual  happiness  was  estab 
lished  that  promised  to  be  endless  in  duration.  The  wed 
ding,  however,  was  to  be  no  hasty  affair  :  eminent  proprie 
ty  forbade  that :  but  it  was  an  event  for  no  very  far 
distant  day,  as  anybody  reduced  to  half  an  eye  could  see. 
Congratulations  were  many,  and  the  happy  couple  con 
ceived  themselves  to  be  about  the  most  favored  of  any 
since  the  primeval  pair.  The  primeval  pair  had  no  period 
of  courtship  to  endanger  the  union  of  the  cup  and  the  lip. 
They  accepted  the  situation  at  once,  and  were  true  to  it. 
There  were  no  jealousies  and  heart-burnings  to  mar  the 
peace  of  either;  and  so,  maugre  the  trouble  incurred  be- 


MISSING.  317 

cause  of  that  little  episode  about  the  apple,  they  lived 
happily  on  to  the  last.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  their 
example  is  not  followed,  in  this  respect,  by  their  descend 
ants. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  heyday  of  Blissful  anticipa 
tion  that  one  morning  a  carriage  drove  up  to  the  door  of 
the  house,  in  which  George  Wayne  was  a  partner,  from 
which  a  gentleman  and  lady  alighted,  and  were  conducted 
to  the  counting-room,  where  sat  the  senior  partner  of  the 
firm  reading  his  newspaper.  George  saw,  with  a  quick 
glance,  as  a  playful  breeze  swept  her  veil  aside,  that  she 
was  very  lovely,  and  though,  just  as  she  came  in,  he  was 
thinking  of  selecting  a  pattern  for  a  wedding  coat,  he 
wished  heartily  that  he  might  be  called  in  to  consult  with 
his  senior  on  some  matter,  he  cared  not  what,  in  order  to 
get  another  glimpse  of  the  beautiful  stranger.  Soon,  much 
to  his  gratification,  he  heard  his  name  called,  and  he 
obeyed  the  summons  with  alacrity. 

'"  Wayne,"  said  Mr.  Simpson,  of  the  firm  of  Simpson, 
Dodge  &  Co.,  "  this  is  Miss  Willison,  daughter  of  our  wine 
correspondent  at  Bordeaux  —  Mr.  Wayne,  Miss  Willison ; 
Mr.  Clark,  of  Clark  &  Milton,  Bordeaux,  Mr.  Wayne. 
Please  be  acquainted." 

Wayne  acknowledged  the  pleasure,  and  learned  from 
the  lady  that  she  had  been  for  some  time  in  America,  a 
guest  of  Mr.  Clark,  and  was  on  the  point  of  returning, 
when  she  heard  the  news  of  her  father's  illness,  and  had 
come  to  consult  with  the  firm,  of  which  he  had'  long  been 
a  correspondent. 

"  Miss  Willison,"  said  Mr.  Simpson,  "  represents  her 
father,  who,  I  am  pained  to  hear,  has  been  seized  with  a 
sudden  illness,  which  renders  his  further  attention  to  busi 
ness  impossible  —  a  disease  of  the  brain,  and  entire  loss  of 
memory.  Some  affairs,  in  which  he  was  engaged  at  tho 
27* 


318  PARTINGTOXIAN  PATCHWORK. 

time  he  was  stricken,  need  adjusting ;  therefore  it  will  be 
necessary  for  one  who  is  competent  to  go  on,  and  assume 
the  charge  of  matters  there  until  his  recovery.  Can  you 
not  go  for  a  few  months,  and  do  this  ?  —  It  will  be  very 
hard  for  him  to  go,  I  assure  you,  Miss  Willison,"  —  turning 
to  her,  —  "  for  he  has  very  strong  ties  to  bind  him  here." 

But  Wayne  at  once,  as  Rebekah  did  when  suddenly 
asked  to  go  and  be  the  wife  of  Isaac,  said,  "  I'll  go,"  and 
turned  away,  with  a  parting  bow  and  smile  to  the  visitors, 
to  pack  his  trunk,  and  bid  good  by  to  Alice. 

It  was  unfortunate  that  they  could  not  have  hurried 
things  along  a  little,  so  that  he  could  have  taken  Alice's 
trunks  with  his,  and  Alice,  too ;  but  the  wedding  was  re 
served  for  his  return ;  and  so,  after  a  few  days,  he  left,  in 
the  dangerous  company  of  charming  Miss  Willison. 

Dangerous,  I  mean,  under  the  circumstances ;  for,  though 
I  firmly  and  full}'-  believe  that  "  the  heart  that  once  truly 
loves  never  forgets,"  still  human  nature  is  weak,  and  the 
heart  may  become  etherized  by  passion,  and  all  of  human 
fealty  be  contravened  in  the  heart's  despite.  Sea-sickness 
is  a  strong  excitant  of  sympathy,  and  the  charming  Flo 
Willison  —  her  name  was  Florinda  Augusta,  but  there  are 
no  middle  names  in  romance  —  was  very  sick,  and  George 
Wayne  was  not ;  so  he  sat  by  her,  and  soothed  her,  and 
dosed  her  with  brandy  and  w'ater,  and  carried  her  on 
deck,  and  acted  anew  the  brotherly  role  he  had  lately  as 
sumed.  "  With  the  same  result  ?  "  is  asked.  We  shall  see. 

"  Flo,"  as  George  had  learned  to  call  her  already  in  the 
most  brotherly  way  possible,  was  persistently  sick,  though 
the  color  returned  to  her  cheeks  and  lips,  and  insisted  on 
the  attention  that  her  invalid  condition  demanded  ;  and  at 
last,  when  she  was  able  to  eat  a  little  something,  he  would 
go  to  the  table,  and  select  such  delicacies  as  she  liked,  and 
they  would  eat  them  together  in  some  quiet  place,  and  de- 


MISSING.  319 

sire  no  more  society.  All  the  young  men  on  board,  and,  it 
must  be  confessed,  many  of  the  old  ones,  were  eager  -to 
render  service  to  the  fair  invalid ;  but  she  declined  their 
attentions,  as  her  " brother"  was  all  that  she  desired.  It 
was  before  the  days  of-  steamers,  and  the  progress  from 
New  York  to  France  was  tedious ;  Kut  to  George  and  Flo 
it  was  like  Juliet's  "  sweet  sorrow "  of  the  farewell,  and 
they  wished  it  might  be  extended,  though  Flo's  sickness 
was  of  most  alarming  endurance. 

I  went  to  sea  once  with  a  captain  who  was  seasick  the 
first  of  every  voyage,  and  who  always  laid  in  three  gallons 
of  gin  as  a  remedy.  I  did  not  see  that  it  did  him  any 
good,  though  he  kept  taking  it  till  it  was  gone,  and  com 
menced  his  duties  with  the  last  dose,  throwing  the  tin 
tumbler,  from  which  he  took  it,  at  the  steward's  head, 
though  I  could  not  understand  why. 

Flo  was  sick  every  bit  of  the  way  across  the  ocean,  but, 
011  the  principle  of  the  captain's  remedy,  George's  reme 
dies  were  not  exhausted,  and  so  he  kept  on  administering 
them,  and  she  saw  no  necessity  for  getting  well,  and  both 
regretted  when  the  shores  of  France  came  in  view,  as  they 
at  last  did. 

George,  when  they  left  the  ship,  could  not  help  admit 
ting  that  the  brotherly  feeling  for  Flo  was  stronger  than 
that  which  he  had  entertained  for  the  sisters ;  but  he  sup 
posed  that  it  was  owing  to  the  fact  of  his  having  in  that 
case  to  divide  himself  among  three,  while  in  this  all  was 
concentrated  on  one. 

He  rode  with  her  in  the  carriage  that  bore  her  to  her 
home  in  the  suburbs  of  Bordeaux;  but  not  wishing  to  in 
terrupt  the  cordiality  of  meeting  by  the  presence  of  a 
stranger,  he  bade  her  good  by,  with  the  promise  of  an  im 
mediate  call,  and  gave  her  a  chaste,  brotherly  kiss  at  part 
ing,  which  she  returned  in  a  sisterly  manner. 


320  PAKTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

He  drove  to  his  hotel,  thinking  what  a  charming  person 
she  was,  and  was  glad  to  think  he  had  been  instrumental 
in  alleviating  the  pangs  of  her  sea-sickness  by  his  care. 

He  called  upon  her  the  next  day,  and  found  her  equally 
charming.  He  saw  her  father,  a  perfect  wreck  of  a  man 
mentally,  although  his  bodily  health  was  good.  He  knew 
his  daughter,  but  had  no  comprehension  beyond  the 
simplest  facts.  All  business  grasp  was  gone,  and  when 
she  tried  to  introduce  George  as  the  companion  of  her 
voyage  and  her  protector,  he  appeared  to  arouse  at  the 
mention  of  the  name,  rubbed  his  forehead  thoughtfully, 
and  then  relapsed  into  indifference. 

Flo  was  an  only  child,  her  mother  having  also,  for  the 
express  benefit  of  my  story,  died  when  she  was  very 
young. 

Wayne  went  immediately  to  work  to  adjust  the  busi 
ness  of  the  concern,  but  found  affairs  so  complicated  that 
months  would  be  necessary  to  enable  him  to  complete  the 
work  he  had  to  do.  In  the  mean  time  his  correspondence 
with  Alice  had  been  prompt  and  glowing.  But  his  letters, 
full  of  enthusiastic  descriptions  of  his  fair  companion,  did 
not  elicit  such  cordial  responses  as  he  wished,  and,  greatly 
to  his  surprise,  he  found  them  growing  colder  with  every 
mail.  Strangely  enough,  he  found  himself  making  com 
parisons  between  Alice  and  Flo,  with  a  large  percentage 
in  favor  of  the  latter,  and  even  questioned  whether  he  had 
ever  loved  the  former  at  all.  His  visits  to  Flo  were  fre 
quent,  and  with  every  visit  arose  new  doubts  about  the 
nature  of  the  feeling  towards  Alice  that  had  inspired  him. 
The  atmosphere  of  correspondence  grew  colder  and  colder, 
till  it  was  almost  ic}',  and  then,  without  explanation,  letters 
from  Alice  stopped  coming  altogether.  Wayne  thought 
himself  a  much  injured  man,  but  found  a  solace  in  the  so 
ciety  of  Flo  that  more  than  compensated  him. 


MISSING.  321 

One  night  thereafter  he  and  his  fair  patient  were  at  the 
theatre,  enjoying  an  opera,  when  he  was  attracted  by  a 
battery  of  lorgnettes  aimed  at  him  from  a  private  box,  and, 
turning  his  own  glass  in  that  direction,  he  encountered  the 
stare  of  the  whole  Francis  family,  who  indignantly  repudi 
ated  him  in  the  glance  that  they  gave  him.  There  was 
with  them  a  tall,  big-whiskered  fellow,  whom  he  did  not 
like  the  appearance  of,  who  made  a  motion  as  if  to  leave 
the  box,  but  was  held  back .  by  Alice,  as  though  she  would 
still  show  herself  Wayne's  good  angel,  maugre  the  hostili 
ty,  if  such  it  was,  betwixt  them.  Before  he  could  rightly 
decide  how  to  act,  the  party  had  left  the  box,  and,  without 
explaining  the  motive  that  was  evident  in  his  conduct,  he 
turned  to  admiring  the  opera  with  his  fair  companion,  to 
whom  he  had  never  revealed  the  secret  of  his  engagement 
—  the  ridiculous  fellow  ! 

He  consulted  the  papers  to  learn  the  hotel  where  the" 
Francis  family  were  stopping,  and  went  to  find  them  ;  but 
they  had  left  for  Germany.  In  the  course  of  the  day, 
however,  as  he  was  busied  with  his  accounts,  alone,  a 
knock  came  upon  the  door,  to  which  he  responded,  "  Come 
in,"  when  the  same  big-whiskered  man  of  the  theatre  stood 
before  him. 

"  Is  your  name  George  Wayne  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  is." 

"  Then  there  is  a  card,  which  will  tell  you  who  I  am, 
and  you  can  guess  the  object  of  my  visit.  If  you  cannot, 
I  will  tell  you." 

The  card  bore  the  name  of  "  Thomas  Francis,  New  York." 

"I  suppose,  by  the  card,"  said  George,  "that  you  must 
be  Captain  Francis,  the  brother  of  the  Misses  Francis,  of 
New  York,  ladies  for  whom  I  entertain  the  profoundest 
affection  and  respect,  one  of  whom,  Miss  Alice,  was  to 
have  been  my  bride  on  my  return." 


322  PARTINGTONIAN;  PATCHWORK. 

"Yes,"  replied  tlie  captain,  looking  very  savage;  "and 
why  isn't  she  to  be  your  bride  ?  Tell  me  that ! " 

"  'Pon  my  honor,"  said  George,  "  I  know  no  earthly  rea 
son,  except  that  she  has  stopped  corresponding  with  me  ; 
and  one  would  not  wish  to  marry  a  person  who  is  angry 
with  him.  Would  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  captain  ;  "but  what 
do  you  mean,  sir,  by  your  infamous  conduct  in  praising 
another  in  your  letters  to  niy  sister?  Is  that  the  way  you 
try  to  keep  a  young  lady  good-natured  ?  " 

"I  certainly  have,"  replied  George,  "praised  a  certain 
'young  lady  passenger  in  the  ship  with  me,  who  was  sea 
sick,  and  had  no  mother  ;  but  you  know  how  it  is  yourself, 
and  how  natural  attention  at  such  a  time  would  be.  I 
would  not  have  offended  my  dear  Alice  for  any  thing  in  the 
world  ;  but  as  she  has  chosen  silence  as  the  bond  of  peace, 
I  have  nothing  to  say." 

"But  are  you  not  going  to  marry  her  ?"  shouted  the 
irate  captain. 

"I  should  not  wish  to  do  so  against  her  will,"  said 
George  ;  "  but  I  stand  ready  to  resume  communications 
when  the  cable  is  fished  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  ocean 
of  doubt  and  jealousy,  and  re-united.  Then,  when  I  get  a 
message  from  '  Heart's  Content/  I  shall  know  what  to  do." 
The  captain  went  out  without  another  word,  and  Wayne 
resumed  his  figures.  The  captain  did  not  put  in  another 
appearance ;  and  in  a  short  time  George  received  a  pack 
age  containing  all  of  his  letters  to  Alice,  and  a  note  .from 
Jennie  regretting  the  disruption  of  the -ties  which  they 
had  all  hoped  were  to  last,  and  bidding  him  a  sisterly  fare 
well  forever. 

George  dropped  a  tear  or  two  upon  the  letter,  with  a 
real  feeling  of  sadness  at  his  heart,  and  went  and  made  a 
confession  of  the  whole  matter  to  Flo,  who  shed  sweet  tears, 


MISSING.  323 

and  blamed  him  for  not  telling  her  before,  which  might 
have  prevented  her —  Here  she  broke  down,  without 
explanation ;  but  the  meaning  George  guessed,  for  he 
clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  was  as  much  delighted  as 
though  she  had  spoken  a  whole  chapter.  In  the  midst  of 
the  scene,  to  the  surprise  of  both,  a  door  near  them  opened 
at  this  somewhat  critical  juncture,  and  her  father  stood 
before  them,  who,  in  a  terrible  voice,  demanded  to  know 
what  the  scene  he  witnessed  meant.  That  is  what  all  en 
raged  fathers  say,  as  if  they  do  not  know  very  well  what 
it  means ! 

A  great  change  had  come  over  the  old  man.  He  stood 
before  them  in  the  strength  of  restored  powers,  his  eyes 
clear  and  bright,  with  too  much  memory,  if  any  thing,  for 
the  present  comfort  and  peace  of  mind  of  those  who  stood 
before  him. 

"It  means,  sir,"  said  George,  taking  Flo  by  the  hand 
"  that  I  love  your  daughter,  and  she  has  just  avowed,  by 
implication,  a  similar  regard  for  me.  We  feel  grateful,  sir, 
that  you  have  recovered,  to  consent  to  and  bless  our  union." 

"And  what  name  does  he  bear  who  asks  this?  "  replied 
Mr.  Willison.  "  It  is  a  modest  request,  truly,  for  a  man  to 
make  whom  I  do  not  know  ! " 

"  True,  I  had  forgotten,  sir,"  said  George,  "  that,  though 
as  the  recent  partner  of  Simpson,  Dodge  &  Co.,  I  was 
familiar  with  your  name,  you  could  not  be  with  mine.  My 
name,  sir,  is  George  Wayne." 

The  old  man  gave  a  start,  as  if  electrified,  and  in  a 
husky  voice  repeated  the  name.  Seizing  the  young  man 
by  the  arm,  he  turned  him  to  the  window,  and  gazed  long 
and  earnestly  upon  his  features. 

"Holy  Heaven!"  said  he,  smiting  his  forehead,  while 
the  tears  poured  from  his  eyes,  "  why  was  I  waked  to  con 
sciousness  like  this?  And  yet  my  returning  saves  us  all 


324  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

from  a  great  calamity.  Flo,  my  child,  leave  —  George 
Wayne "  —  speaking  the  name  as  if  with  difficulty  — 
"  with  me." 

She  did  as  directed,  casting  a  troubled  look  at  George 
as  she  left  the  room,  while  he  stood  with  all  the  active 
emotions  visible  on  his  face. 

"  You  cannot  marry  her,"  said  the  old  man,  when  they 
were  alone. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  George,  in  a  tone  of  surprise,  grief, 
and  some  vexation. 

"  Because,"  replied  he,  "  she  is  your  sister." 

"  It  cannot  be ! "  almost  shrieked  the  lover,  as  he  heard 
the  words. 

"  Alas,  it  is  too  true,  as  I  can  convince  you,"  said  Mr. 
Willison  —  Willison  no  longer.  "  I,  too,  bear,  or  did  bear, 
the  name  of  George  Wayne ;  but  years  ago  I  lost  it,  lost 
my  identity,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  every  thing  by 
which  I  could  know  myself.  In  an  oblivious  state,  I  wan 
dered  away  from  home  and  friends,  and  awoke  amid 
scenes  that  were  new  —  to  a  new  life.  I  did  not  know  my 
name,  the  place  I  came  from,  the  friends  I  had  known, 
though  I  never  forgot  that  I  had  a  wife  and  children. 
These  clung  to  me  like  a  ray  of  sunlight  in  the  gloom  of  a 
cavern ;  but  I  could  get  no  clew  to  them.  At  last,  in  de 
spair,  I  gave  them  up,  hopeless  of  a  re-union  with  them, 
married  a  worthy  woman,  the  mother  of  Flo,  and  became 
Arthur  Willison,  correspondent  of  a  respectable  New  York 
house,  and  made  money,  till  the  malady  came  that  struck 
me  down.  I  have  had  what  seemed  dreams  of  my  early 
life  —  a  misty  memory  of  a  ride  in  a  blazing  sun  frdTn  a 
busy  town  to  my  own  home,  of  being  made  partly  uncon 
scious,  and  leaving  my  cart  in  search  of  water  in  a  wood, 
where  all  reason  left  me,  until  I  came  to  myself  here.  I 
was  told  that  I  had  shipped  on  a  vessel  at  New  York  for 


MISSING.  325 

this  port ;  that  I  appeared  in  a  state  of  bewilderment  when 
asked  to  sign  the  shipping-papers,  and  made  my  mark,  giv 
ing  'the  name  I  bear.  And  now,  tell  me,  is  your  mother 
yet  alive?" 

He  watched  eagerly  for  an  answer. 

"  She  is/'  replied  George  Wayne,  the  color  of  his  hope 
all  faded  out,  as  it  must  necessarily  have  done,  for -did  ever 
such  a  crushing  weight  obtrude  itself  upon  "  love's  young 
dream  "  as  a  mutual  father  to  interpose  objections  to  the 
banns  ?  Charles  E-eade,  in  his  most  artistic  inspiration,  I 
think,  never  conceived  aught  like  this.  I  lead  him  here, 
though,  in  ordinary  cases,  he  could  give  me  eight  points  in 
ten,  and  beat  me. 

"  Thank  God  for  that ! "  said  the  old  man ;  "  and  now, 
my  son,  show  your  manhood  by  endeavoring  to  overcome 
this  hopeless  passion,  and  give  your  mind  to  the  re-union 
of  your  parents,  and  the  reparation  of  past  accidents, 
grateful  for  worse  accidents  just  escaped." 

George  went  to  inform  Flo,  who  received  the  announce 
ment  with  astonishment,  and  some  considerable  regret 
that  Pate  had  transformed  a  real  nice  lover  into  a  very 
ordinary  brother ;  but  he  consoled  her,  and  kissed  her  tears 
away,  as  he  had  a  right  to  do,  and  behaved  so  tenderly 
that  Flo  admitted  that  a  brother  was  not  so  very  much 
worse  than  a  lover,  after  all. 

Thus  matters  stood,  when  George  wrote  an  urgent  letter 
to  his  mother  to  come  to  France  by  the  next  packet,  and, 
though  it  is  very  easy  to  state  the  fact,  it  took  months  for 
her  to  reach  her  destination.  When  she  came,  George 
carried  her  at  once  to  Mr.  Willison's  residence,  and  told 
her  she  must  not  be  surprised,  though  one  came  there  as  if 
from  the  dead  to  receive  her.  She  looked  on  his  face  in 
great  alarm,  but  his  smile  re-assured  her. 

"  Suppose  it  should  be  father  !  " 


326  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Oh,  no ;  it  can't  be  !  "  she  said,  wildly. 

But  the  door  was  swung  wide,  and  there  stood  the  ap 
parition  of  the  former  George  Wayne,  who  came  towards 
her  with  open  arms,  with  the  same  look  on  his  face,  and 
she,  simply  murmuring,  "  My  hushand  !  "  was  enclosed  in 
his  embrace. 

She  had  fainted,  of  course. 

The  morning  journals  announced  the  return  from  their 
travels  of  the  Francis  family,  and  to  their  hotel  George 
Wayne  went  very  early  to  propitiate  the  dark  deities  that 
at  this  time  were  brooding  over  both  the  houses.  He 
found  the  captain  in  the  reading-room,  who  received  him, 
of  course,  very  coolly ;  but  upon  his  opening  the  discus 
sion  by  an  explanation  of  the  new  state  of  affairs,  and  ly 
ing  a  little  about  the  new  sister  by  suppressing  the  fact 
that  he  did  not  know  she  was  such  when  he  wrote  about 
her,  the  captain  was  mollified,  and  he  was  sent  aloft  as  an 
ambassador  of  peace,  returning  soon  with  an  invitation  to 
the  prodigal  to  come  up  stairs,  which  he  accepted ;  and 
there  the  inharmonies  were  adjusted,  to  the  delight  of  all. 

I  might  as  well  say  here  that  George  and  Alice  were 
married  at  the  American  consul's,  and  it  was  the  greatest 
and  grandest  wedding  celebrated  in  that  city  for  many 
years,  if  I  may  except  that  of  Captain  Francis  and  Flo 
Willison  soon  after,  which  happened  as  a  matfer  of  course ; 
anybody  can  see  that  it  must  have  happened  in  such  an 
atmosphere  as  surrounded  them. 

As  soon  as  the  business  of  his  house  was  adjusted, 
which  was  now  easily  done  with  the  help  of  the  rec.overed 
George  Wayne,  all  the  parties  returned  to  America,  the 
old  folks  going  by  themselves  to  their  first  home,  every 
scene  of  which  was  restored  to  the  mind  of  the  missing 
man.  When  they  walked  up  the  principal  street  of 
Elmwood,  with  Harry  by  their  side,  the  astonishment  of 


MIGRATORY  BONES.  327 

the  people  knew  no  bounds.  The  old  hobbled  out  to  re 
ceive  their  long-absent  friend,  while  the  young  rushed  in  with 
wild  curiosity.  The  bells  were  rung,  and,  when  the  peo 
ple  assembled  on  the  village  green,  the  old  minister  knelt 
down  and  devoutly  thanked  God,  to  which  all  responded 
AMEN. 


MIGRATORY  BONES,* 

SHOWING  THE  VAGABONDISE  TENDENCY  OF  BONES 
THAT  AEE  LOOSE. 

WE  all  have  heard  of  Dr.  Redman, 

The  man  in  New  York  who  deals  with  dead  men, 

Who  sits  at  a  table, 

And  straightway  is  able 
To  talk' with  the  spirits  of  those  who  have  fled,  mail ! 

And  gentles  and  ladies 

Located  in  Hades, 
Through  his  miraculous  mediation, 

Declare  how  they  feel, 

And  such  things  reveal 
As  suits  their  genius  for  iinpartation. 
'Tis  not  with  any  irreverent  spirit 
I  give  the  tale,  or  flout  it,  or  jeer  it; 

*  Dr.  Eedman,  of  New  York,  was  a  noted  medium,  and  it  was 
said  that,  for  a  while,  wherever  he  might  be,  hones  would  be 
dropped  all  about  him,  to  the  confusion  and  wonder  of  everybody. 
These  bones,  he  said,  were  brought  him  by  a  spirit,  whose  bones 
were  of  no  further  use  to  him. 


328  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWOKK. 

For  many  good  folk 

Not  subject  to  joke 
Declare  for  the  fact  that  they  both  see  and  hear  it. 

It  comes  from  New  York,  though, 

And  it  might  be  hard  work,  though, 
To  bring  belief  to  any  point  near  it. 

Now  this  Dr.  Redman, 

Who  deals  with  the  dead  men, 
Once  cut  up  a  fellow  whose  spirit  had  fled,  man, 

Who  (the  fellow)  perchance 

Had  indulged  in  that  dance 
Performed  at  the  end  of  a  hempen  thread,  man ; 

And  the  cut-up  one, 

(A  son  of  a  gun  !) 

Like  Banquo,  though  he  was  dead,  wasn't  done, 
Insisted  in  very  positive  tones 
That  he'd  be  ground  to  calcined  manure, 

Or  any  other  evil  endure, 
Before  he'd  give  up  his  right  to  his  bones ! 
And  then,  through  knocks,  the  resolute  deTad  man 
Gave  his  bones  a  bequest  to  Redman. 

In  Hartford,  Conn., 

This  matter  was  done, 
And  E-edman  the  bones  highly  thought  on, 

When,  changed  to  New  York 

Was  the  scene  of  his  work, 
In  conjunction  with  Dr.  Orton. 

Now  mark  the  wonder  that  here  appears : 
After  a  season  of  months  and  years, 

Comes  up  again  the  dead  man, 
Who,  in  a  very  practical  way, 
Says  he'll  bring  his  bones  some  day, 


MIGRATORY   BONES.  329 

And  give  them  again  to  Redman. 

When,  sure  enough 
'    (Though  some  that  are  rough 

Might  call  the  narrative  "  devilish  tough  "), 

One  charming  day 

In  the  month  of  May, 
As  Orton  and  Redman  walked  the  street 

Through  the  severing  air, 

From  they  knew  not  where, 

Came  a  positive  bone,  all  bleached  and  bare, 
That  dropped  at  the  doctor's  wondering  feet ! 

Then  the  sprightly  dead  man 

Knocked  out  to  Redman 
The  plan  that  lay  in  his  ghostly  head,  man : 

He'd  carry  the  freight, 

Unheeding  its  weight ; 
They  needn't  question  how,  or  about  it ; 

But  they  might  be  sure 

The  bones  he'd  procure, 
And  not  make  any  great  bones  about  it. 
From  that  he  made  it  a  special  point 
Each  day  for  their  larder  to  furnish  a  joint  t 

From  overhead,  and  from  all  around, 
Upon  the  floor,  and  upon  the  ground, 
Pell-mell, 
Down  fell 

Low  bones,  and  high  bones, 
Jaw  bones,  and  thigh  bones, 
Until  the  doctors,  beneath  their  power, 
Ducked  like  ducks  in  a  thunder-shower ! 
Armfuls  of  bones, 
Bagfuls  of  bones, 
28* 


330  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

Cartloads  of  bones, 

No  end  to  the  multitudinous  bones, 
Until,  forsooth,  this  thought  gained  head,  man, 
That  this  invisible  friend,  the  dead  man, 

Had  chartered  a  band 

From  -the  shadowy  land, 

Who  had  turned  to  work  with  a  busy  hand, 
And  boned  all  their  bones  for  Dr.  Redman  ! 

Now,  how  to  account  for  all  the  mystery 
Of  this  same  weird  and  fantastical  history  ? 

That  is  the  question 

For  people's  digestion, 
And  calls  aloud  for  instant  untwistery ! 

Of  this  we  are  certain, 

By  this  lift  of  the  curtain, 
That  still  they're  alive  for  work  or  enjoyment, 

Though  I  must  confess 

That  I  scarcely  can  guess 
Why  they  don't  choose  some  useful  employment. 


A  NEW  YEAR'S   REVERY. 

DON'T  talk  to  me  of  waste-baskets  for  old  letters ; 
even  the  insidious  plea  of  eight  cents  per  pound  paid  for 
paper  stock  moves  me  not ;  they  must  be  burned.  As  the 
old  Romans  burned  their  dead,  and  preserved  their  ashes 
in  urns,  cherishing  them  with  religious  reverence  and  af 
fection,  so  old  letters,  embodying  loves,  and  fears,  and  ex 
periences,  should  be  thus  served,  nor  be  allowed  to  pass  to 
baser  uses.  They  have  done  their  parts  as  ministers  to 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  EEVEKY.  331 

our  pleasure  or  knowledge,  and  are  deserving  of  the  con 
secration  of  fire  and  preservation  from  ignoble  purposes. 
There  is  a  measure  of  pain  in  the  consignment  to  ashes  of 
that  which  has  been  a  part  of  one's  self,  which  has  sounded 
the  various  chords  of  feeling,  and  drawn-out  by  its  subtile 
power  the  melody  (or  the  discord)  of  our  being  —  some  of 
it  that  the  world  has  not  heard,  which  has  but  silently 
breathed  and  exhaled  to  harmonize  with  the  music  of  the 
spheres.  Letters,  unless  upon  matters  pertaining  to  his 
tory,  or  science,  or  the  general  welfare  in  other  forms, 
should  always  be  burned.  Private  joys  and  sorrows,  that 
form  the  subject  matter  of  ordinary  letter- writin-g,  should 
not  be  transmitted  for  the  gratification  of  curious  eyes,  sub 
ject  to  invidious  construction  or  the  remark  of  the  indiffer 
ent.  They  belong  to  me,  and  me  alone,  and  they  shall  fol 
low  me,  or  lead  me,  to  the  bourne  towards  which  we  both 
tend. 

I  take  from  the  receptacle  where  they  have  lain  these 
many  years  the  old  soiled  bundles,  yellow  with  time,  and 
the  accretive  dust,  the  hint  of  their  own  decay,  gathered 
upon  them.  Here  they  are  before  me,  pile  upon  pile,  an 
incongruous  collection,  their  contents  long  since  forgotten, 
their  writers  dead  or  estranged,  —  which  is  worse,  —  or 
scattered  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  The  old  have  passed 
away,  the  young  become  old,  and  mayhap  all  this  living 
record  of  mind,  that  was,  has  not  a  recollection  living  in 
the  breast  of  any.  Yet  here  the  thoughts,  and  hopes,  and 
fears  remain,  and  ere  I  consign  them  to  the  pyre,  I  will 
once  again  peruse  them,  and  refresh  my  memory  regarding 
their  contents. 

It  is  a  befitting  task  for  the  close  of  a  year,  at  a  time 
when  more  serious  reflections  are  awakened  and  retrospec 
tion  finds  exercise.  Then  the  old  forms  come  back  to  us, 
and  the  old  scenes  revive  with  wonderful  vividness,  need- 


332  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWOBK. 

ing  but  the  voices  of  the  past  to  give  them  vitality.  la 
these  soiled  packages  are  the  voices,  still  as  eloquent  with 
the  thought  that  then  filled  them  as  the  day  they  were 
written. 

Here  is  one  from  Dartmouth  College — scholarly,  and 
imbued  with  the  young  ambition  that  was  going  to  open 
the  world  like  an  oyster,  and  compel  it  to  shell  out.  The 
writer  is  now  an  editor,  the  oyster  but  moderately  seen  in 
his  life's  results,  but  the  old-time  hope  still  remains,  and 
the  warm  feeling  displayed  in  his  friendship  still  exists,  re 
vealed  in  a  thousand  domestic  virtues  and  a  geniality 
of  life  that  renders  him  beloved.  .  .  .  This  is  a  badlj'-- 
spelled  remembrance  of  a  kind-hearted  schoolmate  in  the 
Granite  State,  whose  ideas  of  taste  would  hardly  find  echo 
in  the  modern  saloons,  but  whose  profanity  would  have 
done  credit  to  to-day's  greater  experience.  He  was  killed 
by  a  whale,  it  is  supposed,  up  by  the  North  Pole,  and 
nothing  but  a  spiritual  communication,  that  spelled  his 
name  wrong,  —  the  best  proof  in  the  world  of  his  identity, 
—  was  heard  from  him  afterwards.  .  .  .  This  is  from  a 
pious  adviser  of  my  youth,  long  gone  to  his  reward,  coun 
selling  me  to  avoid  the  many  temptations  to  be  met  with 
in  the  modern  Babylon,  as  he  regarded  the  Boston  of  that 
day —  (what  would  he  have  said  of  this  ?)  —  and  request 
ing  me  to  send  him,  by  stage,  a  pound  of  tobacco  of  a  par 
ticular  brand,  the  value  of  which  he  would  remit,  which  he 
never  did.  .  .  .  This  is  one  of  deeper  interest,  brimming 
with  the  fulness  of  a  sister's  love  —  unselfish,  devoted, 
faithful.  How  pure  such  love  seems,  as  we  wake  from  our 
dream  of  passion  and  sin  and  hear  its  voice,  speaking  to 
us  this  time  from  the  open  heavens  that  bend  as  if  beck 
oning  our  attention  towards  that  sphere  where  such  love 
alone  is  known,  to  be  found  "  when  corruption  shall  have 
put  on  incorruption,"  and  the  uses  of  passion,  —  the  sever- 


A  NEW  YEAft's  EEVEBY.  333 

est  trial  of  love,  —  shall  have  been  forgotten  in  the  higher 
and  brighter  walks  of  the  spiritual  life  !  Burn,  burn !  the  al 
tar  of  sacrifice  is  greedy  for  the  treasure  that  I  fling  upon  it. 

This  soiled  and  crumpled  paper  recalls  an  incident  of  my 
early  experience.  Long  ago  I  received  this  missive,  di 
rected  in  trembling  and  indecisive  characters,  requesting 
my  aid  in  a  very  urgent  matter.  It  gave  an  inkling  of, 
what  I  fully  guessed,  one  of  those  incidents  in  life  that 
too  often  happen,  which  sink  manhood  and  womanhood 
so  low  that  we  turn  in  disgust  from  contemplating  them 
even  while  we  stretch  out  our  hands  to  save.  My  little 
playmate  Mary,  the  letter  told  me,  the  widowed  mother's 
youngest  and  fairest  child,  had  been  "  lured  by  a  villain 
from  her  native  home,"  and  was  now,  it  was  feared,  in  Bos 
ton.  I  subsequently  learned  that  a  young  scamp  from  the 
metropolis  had,  during  a  month's  sojourn  in  the  vicinity  of 
her  home,  won  the  affection  of  the  too  susceptible  girl, 
and  that,  yielding  to  him,  she  had  left  her  almost  heart 
broken  mother,  who,  in  this  crumpled  and  faded  letter,  is 
again  entreating  me,  by  old  companionship  and  old  love, 
to  save  her  dove  from  the  hands  of  the  spoiler. 

Never  did  knight  of  old  enter  upon  chivalric  devoir 
with  more  enthusiasm  than  I  did  to  find  the  whereabouts 
of  the  runaway.  I  walked  through  every  street,  scrutinized 
every  carriage  that  passed  by  me,  looked  in  at  every  win 
dow,  attended  upon  all  exhibitions  that  would  excite  female 
curiosity ;  but  no  clew  could  I  obtain  of  the  object  of  my 
search.  My  mission  led  me  into  some  equivocal  localities, 
subjecting  me  to  many  invidious  shrugs  and  comments. 
Once  or  twice  I  was  addressed  by  females  of  character  far 
from  snow-like,  to  whom  I  freely  told  my  errand,  and  from 
whom  I  received  an  encouraging  and  even  a  kind  word, 
leading  me  to  look  with  different  eyes  upon  a  class  so  lowly 
sunk,  but  who  yet  retained  enough  of  the  divine  to  think 


334  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

with  pity  on  a  mother's  grief  and  entertain  a  desire  to  save 
her  daughter  from  a  life  of  shame.  Grave  people  shook 
their  heads  to  see  me  in  dangerous  vicinities,  which  they 
knew  better  than  I  did  5  and  some  even  went  so  far  as  to 
advise  with  me  in  the  matter,  repeating  to  me  Solomon's 
words  about  the  strange  woman,  whose  steps  take  hold  on 
the  regions  of  darkness,  and  of  the  dart  that  pierces  the 
liver.  When  I  spoke  to  them,  however,  of  the  matter  on 
which  I  was  bent,  they  coolly  told  me  that  such  a  subter 
fuge  was  unworthy  so  well-seeming  a  young  man,  and 
turned  away  as,  if  they  were  afraid  I  should  prove  that  I 
was  honest.  This  was  a  lesson  I  learned  very  early  :  That 
it  is  not  alone  to  those  who  make  the  loudest  professions  we 
must  look  for  genuine  good ;  that  even  the  poor  outlawed 
girl  may  have  more  of  the  leaven  of  sympathy  and  love  in 
her  deeper  nature  than  those  who  practise  external  right 
eousness  to  the  last  syllable  of  the  mint  and  cumin,  but  who 
are  sadly  wanting  in  the  weightier  matter  of  the  law. 
Poor,  outcast,  degraded,  wretched,  trodden  under  feet  of 
men,  —  how  much  brighter  this  sweet  flame  of  charity 
seems  to  glow  when  we  see  it  kindle  amid  such  surround 
ings  !  I  went  into  obscure  courts,  and  eyed  all  the  windows 
with  pertinacious  impudence,  as  it  must  have  appeared  to 
the  inmates,  hoping  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Mary.  Some 
times,  as  my  too  bold  glance  compelled  a  hasty  retreat  of 
some  fair  one  from  a  window,  I  would  fancy  that  it  must 
be  she,  and  waited  to  see  the  face  appear  again,  almost  de 
spairing  with  each  disappointment. 

The  facilities  for  inquiry  were  not  then  as  now,  when 
the  police  system,  like  Argus,  presents  a  hundred  eyes 
through  which  to  look.  I  enlisted  the  town  police  in  the 
matter,  and  after  a  month's  time,  learned  that  one  answer 
ing  my  description  was  living  in  a  little  cottage  in  Cam 
bridge. 


.     A  NEW   YEAR'S   EEVERY.  335 

This  intimation  gave  me  great  joy,  and  I  resolved  to  go 
at  once  to  see  her,  and  entreat  her  to  go  back  to  the  home 
she  had  left.  Armed  with  this  resolution,  I  went  to 
Cambridge,  and  found  the  house  described.  Up  to  this 
moment  I  had  formed  no  definite  plan  of  operation. 
I  knew  nothing  of  the  condition  in  which  she  was  liv 
ing,  if  found,  beyond  the  mere  suspicion  of  the  moment 
—  for  which  there  were  probabilities  strong  enough,  but 
by  no  means  proofs.  I  could  make  no  charges,  and  my 
entreaties  might  be  taken  as  insults,  securing  me  a  rapid 
passage  to  the  door,  and  a  swift  ejectment  through  it. 
As  I  stood  hesitating,  a  young  man  passed  out  of  the 
house.  He  was  just  such  a  one  as  I  should  have  selected 
for  the  person  described,  dressed  according  to  the  most 
tasteful  fashion  of  the  time,  and  wearing  about  him  all  the 
appearances  of  a  scape-grace.  He  "gave  me  a  passing 
glance,  without  suspecting  my  errand,  and  vanished  round 
the  first  corner. 

Left  to  myself,  and  hesitating  what  to  do,  I  was  relieved 
by  a  voice  uttering  my  name.  I  pretended  some  surprise, 
and  went  to  the  door,  which  was  opened  to  me  by  Mary 
herself.  She  was  as  pretty  as  ever ;  but  I  fancied  there 
was  an  expression  of  care  on  her  face ;  though  she  gladly 
welcomed  me,  and  smiled  upon  me  with  her  early  brightness. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you !  "  she  said,  shaking  my  hand ; 
"  and  it  is  such  a  queer  thing  your  finding  me,  —  or.  rather 
my  finding  you,  because  I  did!" 

I  assured  her  I  was  delighted  to  see  her,  spoke  of  the 
long  time  since  we  had  met,  and  alluded  to  our  former  in 
timacy. 

"  And  Mary,"  said  I,  "  what  a  delightful  home,  you  have 
here  !  It  realizes  the  old-time  ideal  of  love  in  a  cottage, 
with  honeysuckled  windows  and  all  the  romantic  incident 
of  young  affection.  I  didn't  hear  of  your  marriage.  He 


336  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

is  a  fortunate  man  who  has  such  a  fairy  to  bless  his  bower. 
I  was  in  hopes,  once,  Mary,  that  I  should  share  my  fate 
with  you  ;  but  it  was  only  a  dream,  and  you  are  happy 
with  another.  "Well,  be  it  so  —  that  you  are  happy  is 
enough  for  me.  Who  is  your  husband  ?  " 

I  looked  in  her  face,  and  saw  she  was  as  pale  as  death, 
though  she  tried  to  smile,  as  a  rose  strives  to  bloom  with 
the  canker  eating  at  its  heart. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Mary  ?  "  said  I ;  "  are  you  ill  ?  " 

"  No,  no/7  she  replied,  "  not  ill ;  but  a  chill  came  over 
me,  and" —  She  burst  into  tears. 

"  Dear  Mary,"  I  exclaimed,  "  something  has  happened 
to  you.  Are  you  not  happy  ?  Does  —  does  —  he  not  treat 
you  kindly  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  she,  with  a  painful  effort  to  look  cheer 
ful.  "  Oh  !  I  am  very  happy,  and — he  — he  couldn't  treat 
me  better.  See  here  ;  I  have  every  thing  to  content  me. 
Here  is  my  music,  here  my  books,  here  my  work." 

"  Yes,"  replied  I,  with  a  sublime  attempt  at  Mentorship, 
"  every  thing  but  one  —  peace  of  mind." 

She  placed  her  hand  on  her  heart,  as  though  I  had 
planted  a  dagger  there,  and  almost  screamed,  as  she  ex 
claimed,  — 

"  True,  true,  and  without  that  all  the  rest  is  hideous ; 
but  how  did  you  suspect  this  ?  " 

I  told  her  that  I  had  read  it  in  her  looks. 

"  Do  my  features  indeed  reveal  this  ?  "  said  she,  sadly,  and 
going  to  a  glass.  "  Has  the  poison  done  its  work  so  soon  ?  " 

"  Poison  ! "  I  exclaimed. 

"  No,  no  ;  what  am  I  talking  about  ?  "  she  cried ;  "  I  am 
wild  to  rave  thus,  and  treat  you  so  badly,  who  are  my  old 
schoolmate  and  friend,  —  for  you  are  my  friend,  and  I  have 
few  friends  now.  And  now  tell  me  every  thing  about  — 
about  our  old  friends,  }TOU  know.  How  long  it  is  since  I 
have  heard  from  them  !  " 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  EEVERY.  337 

She  was  now  all  attention,  and  I  proceeded  to  recount 
the  many  things  that  had  transpired  since  she  left,  speaking 
incidentally  of  her  mother,  and  noting  its  effect  upon  her. 
She  looked  down  and  sighed,  but  asked  no  questions  on 
those  points  that  I  saw  she  thought  the  most  of.  The 
scene  was  mutually  painful  —  on  my  part  to  withhold  my 
knowledge  of  her  secret ;  on  hers  to  keep  me  from  know 
ing  it.  I  parted  from  her  without  intimating  that  I  knew 
aught  about  her,  or  that  our  meeting  had  been  other  than 
accidental,  reserving  my  errand  till  the  next  time  we  should 
meet. 

I  resolved  that  but  little  time  should  elapse  before  this, 
and  in  about  a  week  I  went  again,  and  was  received 
with  the  same  kindness.  There  was  a  deeper  shadow  on 
her  brow,  as  I  plainly  saw ;  but  her  lips  discoursed  lightly, 
and  a  pleasant  laugh  frequently  rippled  upon  the  wave  of 
our  conversation.  At  last  I  spoke. 

"  Mary,  I  have  heard  from  your  mother  since  I  was  here 
last." 

"  The  start  that  she  gave,  and  the  look  that  she  turned 
on  me  !  —  saying,  in  an  almost  inaudible  tone,  — 

"Have  you?7' 

"  Yes/'  I  replied ;  "  and  she  wants  you  to  come  home. 
She  is  very  sad  that  you  left  her ;  your  absence  breaks  her 
heart." 

She  saw  that  I  knew  all.  Folding  her  face  in  her  hands, 
she  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  self-crimination,  regretting 
the  misery  she  had  inflicted,  but  not,  through  it  all,  impli 
cating  the  one  who  had  led  her  into  trouble,  ending  by 
saying  that  she  could  never  go  home  again.  There  was 
bitter  sadness  in  the  tone  in  which  this  was  said ;  but  when 
I  attempted  expostulation  she  repeated  her  words  with 
more  emphasis,  thanking  me  for  my  effort  in  her  behalf, 
and  sending  by  me  a  blessing  for  her  mother,  whom  she 
29 


338  PARTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

did  not  dare  to  write  to.  I  left  her  in  a  very  sad  frame  of 
mind.  A  few  days  after  I  called  again,  but  the  bird  had 
flown ;  the  shutters  were  put  up  at  the  windows,  and  a 
placard,  "  To  LET,"  was  nailed  on  to  the  door.  I  imme 
diately  wrote  to  her  mother  of  my  discovery  and  disap 
pointment;  and  though  I  had  still  my  eyes  open  to  see  her, 
if  possible,  I  hardly  dared  hope  for  it,  deeming  that  she 
had  been  placed  beyond  the  chance  of  my  again  troubling 
her. 

Three  years  passed  away,  and  the  memory  of  Mary  had 
become  overwhelmed  by  the  wave  of  passing  events.  I 
had  received  no  tidings  of  her,  and  supposed  she  might 
have  gone  down  beneath  the  tide,  as  so  many  had  done, 
and  left  no  trace  by  which  to  ascertain  her  fate.  Passing 
along  Washington  Street  hastily,  one  day,  I  saw  a  face  that 
came  across  the  disk  of  my  vision  like  the  memory  of  a 
painful  dream — vague,  ill-defined,  with  nothing  tangible 
by  which  to  locate  or  identify  it. 

I  could  not,  for  the  life  of  me,  recall  the  time  or  place 
where  I  had  seen  it,  but  it  was  a  face  that,  once  seen,  was 
not  to  be  forgotten.  It  was  handsome,  proud  almost  to 
insolence,  and  bore  upon  it  a  certain  stamp  of  breeding 
that  will  always  reveal  itself.  I  turned  to  look  upon  it,  but 
it  had  been  swallowed  up  by  the  crowd,  and  blaming  my 
treacherous  memory,  I  gave  it  up  as  hopeless. 

There  was  an  exhibition  of  paintings  at  the  old  Athe 
naeum  in  Pearl  Street  about  this  time.  It  was  unusually 
fine,  and  comprised  the  works  of  many  of  the  best  native 
and  foreign  artists.  Sauntering  along  and  leisurely  exam 
ining  the  collection,  I  at  last  stood  before  a  portrait  that  I 
thought  I  recognized.  Looking  at  the  catalogue,  I  found 
it  bore  the  simple  title,  "Portrait  of  a  Gentleman."  I 
tried  to  connect  it  with  something  outside  —  some  inci 
dent  or  scene  —  but?  could  not.  Passing  along,  in  the 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  REVERY.  389 

painful  struggle  to  recollect,  I  was  attracted  by  Duverne's 
great  work,  "  Mary  and  the  Master,"  when,  like  a  flash  of 
light,  it  came  over  me  that  the  face  which  puzzled  me  was 
his  that  I  had  seen  leave  the  cottage  in  Cambridge,  three 
years  before.  I  involuntarily  said,  "  Mary." 

I  have  lived  long  enough  to  discriminate  between 
appointment  and  accident,  as  any  one  must  who  sees  the 
wonderful  phenomena  imputed  to  accident  take  their  part 
in  the  formation  of  fortune  or  character,  or  the  coinciden- 
tals  that  astonish  us  by  their  frequency.  Thus  the  simple 
name,  "  Mary,"  at  this  moment,  breathed  upon  my  memory 
the  retrocast  of  years,  and  endowed  it  with  form,  and  peo 
pled  it.  I  was  almost  startled  by  the  suddenness  and 
vividness  of  the  recollection,  when  a  hearty  voice  at  my 
side  said,  — 

"  A  fine  picture,  sir." 

I  turned  to  the  speaker,  and  saw  an  elderly  gentleman 
with  his  hand  rolled  up  and  held  to  his  eye,  looking  through 
it  earnestly  at  the  painting.  I  saw  that  he  had  addressed 
me,  and  assented  to  the  proposition  that  it  was  a  fine 
painting. 

"  But  who  is  Duverne  ?  "  said  he. 

I  assured  him  that  I  had  never  before  heard  of  him,  and 
indeed  have  never  again  heard  of  him  to  this  day.  After 
a  few  brief  exchanges  on  art  and  artists,  I  related  to  him 
the  reason  of  my  ejaculation  of  the  name  that  had  attracted 
his  attention,  and  asked  him  to  look  at  the  portrait  that 
had  provoked  my  curiosity. 

"  That !  "  said  he,  in  some  surprise  ;  "  that  is  my  nephew, 
sir ;  I  may  almost  say  my  son,  for  he  will  possess  what  little 
I  may  have  left  when  I  pass  from  the  stage.  A  well-look 
ing  young  man,  sir." 

I  assented  very  readily,  as  he  really  was,  in  appearance, 
all  that  could  be  wished. 


340  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Is  he  married  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Married !  "  he  replied,  almost  angrily  ;  "  no,  the  dog, 
and  that  is  what  troubles  me.  If  he  would  only  marry 
and  settle  down  into  a  steady-going  citizen,  I  should  feel 
some  hope  of  him,  and  be  better  assured  of  his  future  hap 
piness.  He  is  a  little  wild,  you  know  —  the  fault,  as  some 
deem  it,  of  young  people,  though  I  am  not  a  stickler  for 
entire  propriety  at  twenty-five.  At  any  rate  I  can  for 
give  a  good  deal  in  one  at  that  age." 

"  Have  you  urged  him  to  marry  ?  "  I  asked,  holding  the 
great  secret  in  my  heart  which  made  me  bold. 

"  Certainly  I  have,"  he  replied,  shaking  his  cane  threaten 
ingly,  but  fondly,  at  the  picture  ;  "  certainly  I  have,  but  he 
pertinaciously  laughs  me  to  silence  when  I  propose  it ;  and 
I  have  such  a  match  for  him  !  —  wealth  and  beauty,  sir, 
waiting  but  the  motion  to  fall  into  his  arms.  You  know 
it  is  true,  you  rogue,  you,"  said  he,  addressing  the  picture. 

"  Does  he  not  love  some  one  else,  sir  ?  "  I  ventured,  but 
instantly  saw  that  I  had  touched  a  tender  point. 

"  He  dare  not,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  turning  very 
red ;  "  he  dare  not ;  for  should  he  venture  to  bestow  his 
affection  where  I  did  not  wish  him  to,  I  would  cut  him  off, 
sir,  from  all  forgiveness,  and  not  one  of  my  dollars  should 
he  ever  touch." 

"  Still  human  nature  'is  weak,"  I  urged  ;  "  and  human 
love  capricious  ;  it  will  go  where  it  is  sent,  like  the  measles. 
I  know  of  no  immunity  that  any  of  us  possess." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  he  replied. 

"  He  might  do  worse,  even,  than  love  without  your  con 
sent,"  I  said. 

«  How  ?  "  he  asked. 

I  then  drew  for  him  a  fancy  picture  of  a  young  man  who 
perhaps  would  do  as  I  presumed  he  had  done,  telling  Mary's 
story  minutely  as  I  had  learned  it,  coloring  it  with  the 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  EEVEEY.  341 

skill  of  an  artist,  and  putting  the  color  lavishly  on  the 
effective  points.  He  listened  very  attentively,  and  sensi 
bly  assented  to  my  proposition  that  this  were  worse  than 
the  crime  of  loving  without  his  assent. 

"This  were  an  atrocity/'  said  he,  "that  I  would  never 
overlook.  I  would  disown  him  were  he  my  son  ten  times 
over.  But  my  boy  is  incapable  of  any  thing  of  this  kind. 
I  have  heard  rumors  of  his  indiscretion,  but  he  has  dis 
avowed  them  to  me,  when  accused  of  them,  and  I  know 
him  too  well  to  doubt  him.  Besides,  years  and  travel  have 
tempered  his  youth,  and  the  period  of  danger  is  passed. 
He  has  for  three  years  been  in  Europe." 

This  accounted  for  my  not  having  seen  him.  I  thought 
I  would  here  run  the  risk  of  speaking  the  thought  that 
was  in  my  mind. 

"  And  yet,"  said  I,  very  seriously,  "  I  bring,  here  in  the 
presence  of  his  effigy,  and  of  the  affection  that  would 
shield  him,  the  charge  of  having  committed  the  very  crime 
depicted  in  my  sketch." 

The  old  man  almost  shouted,  "  It  can't  be  true." 

"  It  is  true,  sir,"  I  said ;  and  proceeded  to  tell  him  my 
discovery  of  the  cottage  at  Cambridge,  the  face  momenta 
rily  seen  and  remembered,  the  recognition  of  it  in  the 
street,  and  the  final  identification  of  it  in  the  gallery  through 
the  mnemotechnic  hint  of  the  associated  "  Mary."  He 
listened  attentively,  and  assured  me  he  would  sift  the 
affair  to  the  bottom.  He  wished  me  to  be  present  at  the 
interview  with  his  nephew,  and  as  the  young  man  did  not 
know  me,  he  proposed  that  I  should  attend  in  the  capacity 
of  lawyer,  to  draw  up  some  pretended  marriage  contract 
which  he  was  going  to  insist  upon  having  executed.  Hand 
ing  me  his  card  in  exchange  for  mine,  the  old  gentleman 
left  the  gallery. 

The  time  came  sooner  than.  I  expected ;  for  the  next 
29* 


342  PAJITINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

day  a  note  was  brought  me  requesting  my  attendance 
that  evening  in  Blank  Street  —  a  street  then  "respectable," 
but  now  given  over  to  desecrating  uses,  where  washing  is 
done  in  consecrated  halls,  and  tobacco  and  gingerbread 
present  temptation  for  old  and  young,  from  windows,  then 
rich  with  aristocratic  hangings,  now  hung  with  onions. 
Punctual  to  the  time  named,  I  presented  myself,  and  was 
at  once  ushered  into  a  spacious  and  elegant  parlor,  in  which 
were  my  old  friend  and  the  original  of  the  picture  in  the 
Athenaeum.  I  was  introduced  as  Mr.  Trevor,  and  was 
received  with  a  seeming  of  shy  reserve  that  promised  little 
for  an  extended  acquaintance. 

"  I  have  sent  for  you,  Mr.  Trevor,"  said  the  old  gentle 
man,  "on  .a  matter  which  concerns  me  and  my  nephew 
very  closely,  though  I  have  said  nothing  to  him  of  my  in 
tentions.  I  have  set  my  heart  upon  his  marrying  a  lady, 
young,  rich,  beautiful,  and  accomplished.  The  act  would 
establish  him  for  life  in  competency.  Many  times  I  have 
expressed  my  wish  to  see  this,  and  as  many  times  have 
been  denied;  therefore  I  call  upon  you  to  prepare  such 
papers  as  may  be  necessary  to  secure  the  object." 

I  looked  at  the  young  man.  His  face  was  deathly  pale. 
His  lips  were  compressed,  as  though  he  were  struggling  to 
repress  the  spirit  of  resistance  that  filled  him. 

"  Uncle,"  said  he,  "  I  had  hoped  that  this  matter  was 
settled  forever,  and  have,  as  you  say,  repeatedly  declined 
this  union.  The  lady  is  all  you  claim  for  her,  but  I  never 
can  love  her  as  a  man  should  love  a  woman  to  marry  her, 
and  I  must  again  beg  you  to  give  up  the  hope  you  have 
clung  to.  Command  me  in  any  thing  but  that,  and  I  will 
obey  you." 

The  old  gentleman  looked  at  him  fiercely  as  he  spoke, 
and  I  saw  the  cloud  gathering  that  suddenly  burst  upon 
the  victim. 


A  NEW  YEAK'S  REVERY.  343 

"  Suppose,"  replied  he,  "  that  I  should  tell  you  to  give 
me  an  account  of  the  last  three  years  of  your  life,  with  all 
its  duplicity  and  wickedness,  counting  in  a  broken-hearted 
mother's  tears,  a  daughter's  shame,  a  home  deserted,  and 
despair  installed  where  peace  had  prevailed.  Suppose  I 
should  demand  this  of  you  ?  " 

11  And  if  you  should  demand  it,"  said  the  young  man, 
proudly,  "  I  should  answer  that  the  record  would  appear  bet 
ter  than  you  believe,  however  much  it  might  count  against 
me  in  your  esteem.  The  record  is  painful  to  me  in  some 
of  its  features,  because  of  their  concealment  from  you ;  but 
in  the  eye  of  conscience  I  am  acquitted.  The  wrong  I  have 
done  has  proceeded  from  yourself.  Dependent  upon  you, 
and  knowing  your  feeling  regarding  my  marriage,  I  had 
the  fortune  to  fall  in  love  with  one  in  all  ways  deserving 
of  it,  but  poor.  In  the  fervency  of  young  affection  that 
saw  only  its  own  gratification,  I  induced  her  to  leave  her 
mother's  house,  under  a  promise  of  marriage,  which  prom 
ise  was  faithfully  redeemed.  I  married  her  under  a  vow 
of  secrecy,  —  fearing  your  anger,  —  and  retiracy  became 
necessary ;  and  for  years  has  the  nest  been  hidden  that 
holds  my  bird.  'She  has  suffered  untold  anguish  from  the 
concealment,  bore  shame  and  reproach  for  my  sake ;  but 
from  this  hour  she  shall  be  free." 

The  vindication  of  Mary's  honor  gave  me  great  happi 
ness,  and  I  saw  that  her  confusion  in  the  cottage  might 
well  have  sprung  from  the  embarrassment  of  her  new  posi 
tion,  self-exiled  from  home,  giving  up  all  ties  for  the  new 
affection,  which  I  was  glad  to  learn  had  not  been  mis 
placed. 

The  old  gentleman  was  livid  with  rage. 

"  This  to  me  !  "  said  he.  "  /  the  cause  of  your  wrong 
doing  !  You  have  made  your  bed,  and  you  must  lie  in  it, 
though  it  prove  of  thorns.  Leave  me,  sir;  I  wish  to  see 
you  no  more." 


344  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

The  young  man  went  out  sorrowfully.  My  feeling  had 
changed  to  admiration  for  his  honorable  conduct,  and  fol 
lowing  him  to  the  door,  I  "begged  his  address,  that  I  might, 
if  possible,  reconcile  the  parties,  requesting  him.  to  keep 
his  secret  until  he  heard  from  me.  He  gave  me  his  ad 
dress  at  once :  "  George  Ulm,  Hazel  Street,  Maiden." 
Maiden  was  at  this  time  one  of  the  inaccessible  places. 
Isolated  by  toll-bridges,  nothing  but  necessity  ever  brought 
its  denizens  in  contact  with  city  life,  and  one  might  well  be 
considered  secluded  who  took  up  a  residence  there  ! 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone  I  commenced  the  task  of  recon 
ciliation,  which  I  knew  I  could  achieve.  I  pointed  out  the 
susceptibility  of  the  young,  the  attractiveness  of  the  object, 
the  consciousness  of  dependence,  the  hope  of  favorable 
results,  and  more  particularly  I  dwelt  upon  the  honor  of 
the  young  man  through  it  all,  so  in  keeping  with  the  sen 
timent  advanced  by  the  old  gentlemen  himself  at  our  first 
interview.  My  plea  was  effectual,  and  the  old  man  re 
lented.  I  asked  his  permission  to  manage  a  little  surprise 
that  I  had  a  plot  for,  and  carte  blanche  privilege  was 
allowed  me.  I  wrote  immediately  to  Mary's  mother,  giv 
ing  her  the  joyful  news  of  her  daughter's  recovery,  and  the 
more  joyful  news  of  her  vindicated  fame,  and  requested 
her  attendance  in  Boston  by  the  next  stage.  She  came 
immediately,  and  by  the  old  gentleman's  request,  who  en 
tered  with  an  excellent  spirit  into  the  business,  made  her 
home  at  his  house. 

Things  were  ripe  for  the  denoument,  and  it  was  now  the 
eve  of  New  Year's  Day.     I  prepared  a  note,  written  very 
hastily,  thus :  — 
MR.  GEORGE  ULM. 

Dear  Sir :  If  you  wish  to  see  your  uncle  alive,  come  by  the  coach 
immediately,  and  bring  your  wife  with  you.  Haste. 

Yours  truly,  A.  TREVOR. 

BOSTON,  December  31. 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  KEVEKY.  345 

I  gave  the  note  to  a  careful  driver  with  directions  where 
to  deliver  it,  and  in  about  three  hours,  I  heard  a  carriage 
drive  up  to  the  door,  and  hasty  feet  ascending  the  steps. 
The  shutters  had  been  closed,,  so  that  no  light  came  through 
the  windows,  and  the  house  looked  dark  from  the  outside. 
The  parlor  door  was  thrown  open  by  a  familiar  hand,  and 
a  blaze  of  light  burst  upon  George  Ulm  and  Mary  his  wife, 
as  they  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  mollified  uncle,  the 
fond  mother,  and  the  diplomatic  friend  —  meaning  myself. 
Mary  threw  herself  into  her  mother's  arms,  and  begged 
her  forgiveness,  and  George,  after  a  moment's  hesitation, 
stepped  forward,  and  grasped  his  uncle's  extended  hand, 
saying,  — 

"Why,  what  means  this  ?  I  was  told  to  come  if  I  wished 
to  see  you  alive." 

"  Well,  you  didn't  want  to  see  me  dead  —  did  you  ?  " 
said  he ;  "  and  now  where  is  the  witch  that  has  wrought 
this  enchantment  ?  " 

"Here  she  is,  uncle;"  and,  leading  Mary  before  him, 
they  both  knelt  at  his  feet. 

"  Get  up,  you  deluders,"  said  he,  "  and  don't  unman  me. 
Preserve  your  homage  for  the  King  that  holds  our  destiny 
in  his  hand,  adjusting  the  balance  by  his  will  —  whose 
great  law  is  the  law  of  love  —  eh,  Trevor  ?  " 

It  was  the  happiest  scene  I  ever  looked  upon.  It  was 
a  history  I  had  helped  make,  of  which  I  was  glad.  Mary 
afterwards  confessed  to  me  the  misery  she  felt  when  I 
visited  her  in  Cambridge  —  would  have  given  the  world 
to  tell  me  all,  but  was  restrained  by  her  vow.  Suffering 
rather  than  divulge  a  secret  —  a  noble  instance  of  reticence 
in  a  woman. 


346  PAftTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 


MY   FAMILY. 

BY   PAUL    SMUDGE,    M.  G.  S, 

I  DON'T  blame  any  one,  who  can  boast  of  good  blood, 
for  occasionally  alluding  to  it.  I  respect  blood ;  it  tells 
in  the  long  run,  though  I  do  not  think  that  a  man  who  can 
not  boast  of  blood  has  any  cause  to  despair.  A  man's 
blood  becomes  purified  and  ennobled  by  his  aspirations, 
and  a  succession  of  good  deeds  will  purify  the  blood,  while 
a  life  of  meanness  will  soon  vitiate  the  finest  toned  fluid 
that  ever  coursed  through  blue  veins.  I  never,  to  confess 
the  honest  truth,  thought  much  about  blood  or  family  till 

I  lived  in  the  city  of  B ,  in  the  year  18 — ,  when  a 

Genealogical  Society  was  formed,  and  by  some  curious  ac 
cident,  I  was  elected  a  member.  I  never  authorized  any 
one  to  propose  me  for  such  an  honor ;  I  never  asked  who 
thrust  the  honor  upon  me ;  but  I  paid  my  admission  fee, 
and  assumed  the  responsibilities  without  attending  the 
meetings. 

The  fact  that  I  was  a  member  of  a  Genealogical  Socie 
ty  made  an  impression,  and  occasionally,  when  I  shaved  my 
self,  I  complimented  the  gentleman  in  the  glass  upon  the 
important  position  he  held.  When  I  entered  a  crowded 
car  and  noticed  no  movement  made  to  give  me  a  place,  I 
excused  a  lack  of  courtesy  to  a  distinguished  man  on  ac 
count  of  their  ignorance  of  the  position  which  I  held;  and 
once,  when  applying  for  a  choice  seat  at  the  theatre,  when 
there  was  a  tremendous  rush,  I  obtained  precedence  over 
other  applicants,  as  I  always  supposed,  by  adding  to  my 


MY  FAMILY.  347 

name  the  initials  of  M.  G.  S.  But  these  emoluments  of 
my  position  soon  passed  away,  and  my  conscience  began 
to  intimate  to  me  that  I  was  rather  unworthy  of  the  honor 
I  enjoyed.  The  inward  monitor  opened  its  port-holes  and 
I  felt  pierced  with  a  desire  to  do  something  which  should 
make  me  indeed  a  valued  member  of  society.  I  thought 
the  matter  over  very  seriously ;  and  as  I  was  putting  on 
the  member's  boots  one  morning,  the  exertion  started  the 
perspiration,  and  at  the  same  time  an  idea.  The  idea  -en 
larged  as  I  drew  on  the  member's  pants,  it  revolved  itself 
into  shape  as  I  buttoned  his  suspenders,  and  when  I  had 
tied  his  cravat,  the  idea  had  become  a  part  of  my  being. 
I  resolved  to  prepare  a  Genealogical  Tree  of  the  Smudge 
family. 

This  was  my  resolution ;  but  how  to  proceed  was  the 
question.  I  knew  I  had  a  father  and  mother,  and  a  grand 
father,  perhaps  two,  though  I  could  not  remember  —  hav 
ing  left  the  family  roof  at  an  early  age  —  any  particular 
allusion  to  my  paternal  grandfather.  The  tree  grew  in  my 
brain  for  at  least  three  days,  and  having  become  finally 
rooted  there,  I  was  obliged  to  give  it  attention,  or  it  might 
have  proved  injurious  to  my  mental  faculties.  *  Uncertain 
whether  to  commence  at  the  top  branches  and  run  the  tree 
into  the  ground,  or  to  start  at  the  root  and  ascend  sky 
ward,  I  was  forced  to  take  advice ;  and  in  doing  so  I  was 
told  that  in  Shirley  a  family  by  the  name  of  Smudge  had 
long  resided,  who  were  reputed  to  have  a  vast  amount  of 
information  in  regard  to  the  original  stock.  The  key  was 
thus  obtained  to  my  great  work,  and  I  resolved  to  trace  back 
the  race  of  Smudge  till  I  reached  the  first  one  of  that  name. 
I  therefore  wrote  to  the  town  clerk  of  Shirley,  asking  for 
the  address  of  the  leading  member  of  the  Smudge  family 
in  that  place.  I  waited  for  a  reply.  I  waited  two  days  — 
a  week  —  a  fortnight  —  a  month,  without  evidence  that  the 


348  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

town  clerk  of  Shirley  was  possessed  of  vitality.     I  wrote 
again,  and  the  return  mail  brought  me  this  reply :  — 

"  When  you  addreae  a  town  clerk,  or  any  other  man,  on 
business  of  personal  interest  to  you  alone,  you  had  better 
enclose  postage  stamps,  for  all  mail  matter  must  be  pre 
paid.  Yours,  respectfully, 

"  P.  SMUDGE." 

This  was  tart,  but  I  saw  by  the  signature  I  had  waked 
up  one  member  of  the  family.  I  at  once  addressed  him  a 
very  friendly  epistle,  and  enclosed  him  a  sheet  of  postage 
stamps,  intimating  to  him  that  our  correspondence  might 
be  frequent.  In  a  day  or  two  I  received  a  very  brief  note 
from  him,  stating  that  he  did  not  know  who  the  leading 
member  of  the  Smudge  family  was.  One  was  a  town 
pauper,  two  had  long  since  lost  all  claims  to  respectability 
by  their  love  of  the  ardent,  and  he  added,  "  I  am  the  only 
tax-payer  by  that  name  in  this  town,  and  hold  the  position 
of  town  clerk  ;  if  you  wish  any  more  information  I  can  copy 
from  the  records  all  that  can  be  found  concerning  the  family, 
for  which  I  shall  charge  twenty-five  dollars."  I  concluded 
to  amputate  the  Shirley  branch  of  the  Genealogical  Tree. 

This  dash  of  cold  water  rather  retarded  the  growth  of 
the  tree  for  a  month  or  more ;  but  the  idea  of  being  an  un 
worthy  member  of  the  G.  S.  again  stimulated  me,  and  see 
ing  in  the  Coos  County  Republican  that  A.  Smudge  was  a 
dealer  in  groceries,  I  addressed  him  a  letter,  stating  my 
intention  and  soliciting  his  interest  in  the  tree.  I  enclosed 
postage  stamps.  His  reply  came  in  due  course  of  time. 
It  was  to  the  point,  and  read  as  follows :  — 

"Yours  came  to  hand  all  right,  but  I  haven't  got  time 
to  bother  my  brain  about  my  ancestors.  It  takes  all  my 
time  to  feed  six  hungry  little  Smudges.  It  is  a  pity  you 


MY  FAMILY.  349 

have  such  a  quantity  of  idle  time  on  your  hands.  You  had 
better  study  to  make  yourself  useful.  Be  virtuous  and 
you  will  be  happy.  When  your  tree  sprouts  in  our  direc 
tion,  let  me  know." 

I  called  that  impertinent.  But  was  I  to  be  discouraged  ? 
No.  I  remembered  what  Mr.  What's-his-name  said  to  Thing- 
embob  about  the  impossibility  of  finding  the  word  FAIL 
in  his  dictionary,  and  without  replying  to  his  interrogato 
ries,  I  waited  for  more  light,  resolved  to  give  the  tree  a 
fair  start  at  the  first  favorable  opportunitj'.  I  bethought 
me  of  the  Press,  and  published,  as  a  "  feeler,"  a  paragraph 
in  my  favorite  paper  to  the  effect  that  Paul  Smudge,  Esq., 
M.  G.  S.,  was  about  to  trace  back  his  lineage  with  the 
view  to  a  general  meeting  of  the  Smudge  family  at  some 
not  far  distant  day,  hoping  that  his  fellow-citizens  would 
sympathize  with  him  in  his  commendable  undertaking,  and 
concluding,  in  the  editor's  own  language,  with  the  remark 
that  the  name  of  Smudge  had  become  especially  endeared 
to  the  community,  in  which  it  had  got  to  be  a  household 
word,  associated  with  many  deeds  of  worth  and  usefulness. 
The  compliment  was  agreeable,  although  I  found  some 
short  time  thereafter  that  he  had  charged  me  half  a  dol 
lar  a  line  for  it,  which  I  paid  without  a  murmur.  The  re 
sult  of  the  notice  was,  that  letters  began  to  come  to  me 
from  all  directions  from  individuals  named  Smudge,  or 
those  who  had,  by  the  accident  of  marriage,  inherited  any 
of  its  blood;  so  many  indeed,  that  I  had  to. hire  a  lock 
box  in  the  post-office,  which  was  not  large  enough  to  hold 
them.  It  was  curious,  too,  how  many  laid  claim  to  con 
nection  with  the  family  on  very  small  premises.  There 
were  the  Smuggs  of  Boneboro',  and  the  Smutches  of 
Coalville,  and  the  Smudgits  of  Hayfield,  and  the  Smooges 
of  Frog  Meadow,  and  Heaven  knows  what  j  and  all  sorts 

30 


350  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

of  questions  were  asked  of  me,  pertinent  and  impertinent, 
concerning  my  family  history :  Had  I  a  female  cousin  that 
married  a  Wiggin  ?  did  my  grandmother  by  my  mother's 
side  have  three  or  five  husbands  ?  was  my  great  uncle 
hanged  in  Wales  ?  and  if  I  had  not  a  cousin  in  the  battle 
of  Slievegamon  ?  I  answered  them  all,  of  course.  A  man 
came  in  one  day,  as  I  was  waiting  on  a  customer,  and  re 
quested  the  loan  of  a  few  shillings  on  the  ground  that  he 
was  one  of  my  family,  and  gave  his  card  to  assure  me  of 
the  fact,  which  read  "  S.  Mudge."  I  dismissed  him,  you 
nay  be  assured,  very  summarily.  I  was  annoyed  for  a 
while  by  the  boys,  who  used  to  twit  each  other,  within  my 
.hearing  as  I  passed  them,  with  having  no  family.  But  I 
was  determined  that  my  genealogical  research  should  not 
be  retarded  by  coarse  and  unappreciative  remark. 

One  result  of  my  newspaper  notice  was  a  long  and 
bulky  letter  which  I  received  from  the  venerable  Professor 
Smudge,  of  Mung  Institute,  Vermont,  who  in  many  pages 
labored  to  give  me  light  in  my  family  research,  but  which 
left  me  in  gross  darkness  at  the  end.  He  had  traced  the 
origin  of  the  family  as  far  back  as  the  days  of  Abraham, 
and  thought  that  I  might,  by  proper  application,  extend  it 
still  farther,  saying,  however,  that  he  thought  it  useless,  as 
probably  none  of  the  original  Smudges  would  be  present 
at  the  contemplated  gathering. 

I  answered  this,  delighted  at  having  found  one  of  kin 
dred  taste  in  genealogical  matters,  and  our  correspondence 
grew  voluminous.  So  proud  was  I  of  my  distinguished 
kinsman,  that  I  resolved  to  attend  the  society  meetings, 
and  read  one  of  his  letters  before  it.  I  signified  my  inten 
tion  at  the  next  regular  meeting,  to  the  wonder  of  many 
members  as  to  who  I  was.  I  made  great  preparations  to 
do  it  and  myself -justice.  I  read  it  aloud  to  my  wife  sev 
eral  times,  and  she  by  frequent  nods  assented  to  the  points 


MY  FAMILY.  351 

made,  though  in  some  instances  I  fancied  she  grew  somno 
lent  ;  but,  being  a  woman  of  many  cares,  I  forgave  the  in 
attention.  I  forgave  her  the  more  readily  because  the  calls 
upon  my  exchequer  for  postage  had  interfered  materially 
with  her  supplies,  at  which  she  had  never  complained.  (I 
must  publish  here,  however,  a  qualification  to  the  state 
ment,  that  a  woman  failed  to  complain  under  such  circum 
stances,  the  fact  that,  finding  her  supplies  curtailed,  slier 
went  very  quietly  and  got  trusted  for  what  she  wanted, 
leaving  me  thereafter  to  be  surprised  with  many  bills.) 
The  eventful  moment  came,  when  I  was  to  make  my  debut, 
—  my  first  appearance  upon  any  stage  —  before  the  august 
society.  My  friend,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Blow,  had  told  me  that 
to  still  the  beating  of  my  heart,  which  I  found  very  turbu 
lent,  I  must  draw  a  long  breath,  and  hold  on  a  little  be 
fore  taking  another.  He  explained  the  philosophy  of  it 
satisfactorily  at  the  time,  but  though  I  tried  it  I  couldn't 
still  the  tumult  within.  As  I  passed  up  the  narrow  stairs 
leading  to  the  hall  where  the  savants  were  assembled,  be 
fore  whom  I  was  to  speak,  my  knees  smote  together,  and 
I  was  so  weak  that  any  one  could  have  knocked  me  down 
with  a  slung  shot.  I  entered  the  room,  however,  with 
some  show  of  importance,  not  expecting  applause,  of 
course,  but  some  little  curious  attention,  and  was  surprised 
to  find  only  the  janitor  present,  and  a  venerable  gentlemen 
with  an  ear-trumpet,  who  brought  it  round  to  me  as  though 
he  expected  I  was  going  to  put  something  into  it.  The 
janitor  introduced  me,  loudly,  — 

"  Mr.  Smudge,  this  is  the  distinguished  Dr.  Grubb ;  Dr. 
Grubb,  this  is  Mr.  Smudge/7 

"Mr.  Fudge,"  said  the  distinguished  gentleman,  "I -am 
glad  to  see  you." 

"  Smudge,  sir,"  I  corrected  him. 

"  What  ?  "  he  said,  bringing  the  trumpet  up  under  my 
nose. 


352  PABTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

"  Smudge  !  "  I  yelled,  in  a  tone  that  made  the  old  gen 
tleman  start. 

"  Ah,  yes/'  said  he ;  and  commenced  turning  over  the 
leaves  of  a  copious  manuscript  before  him. 

Where  was  the  crowd  I  had  expected  ?  By  and  by 
they  began  to  come  in,  —  a  few  fussy-looking  old  men, — • 
and  then  the  president,  looking  very  red,  bustled  in,  about 
an  hour  behind  time,  took  his  seat,  and  rapped  smartly  on 
the  table  with  his  hammer. 

"  The  first  business  before  us,"  said  he,  "  is  the  paper 
from  Dr.  Grubb,  upon  the  probable  origin,  rise,  and  fall  of 
the  Simia  race  in  Newfoundland." 

Dr.  Grubb  shuffled  together  his  papers,  and  commenced 
to  bore,  continuing  the  process  through  a  two  hours'  effort, 
which  nobody  heard,  the  audience  indulging  in  unrestrict 
ed  conversation,  in  contempt  of  the  trumpet  which  lay 
upon  the  table.  At  its  close,  one  who  had  talked  the 
loudest  during  its  delivery  made  a  motion  that  the  venera 
ble  doctor  be  requested  to  have  it  published  in  some  news 
paper  that  might  be  induced  to  accept  it,  which  was  car 
ried  ;  and  the  president  called  upon  me  by  name —  "  Paul 
Smudge,  Esq." 

The  members  raised  their  eyes  as  I  stood  upon  my  feet, 
and  with  assumed  unconcern,  proceeded  to  unfold  the 
manuscript  of  my  respected  relative. 

"  Mr.  President,"  said  a  member,  rising,  "  Mr.  Spudge 
will  excuse  me  for  interrupting  him ;  but,  as  the  hour  is 
late,  I  will  make  a  motion  that  the  paper  about  to  be  sub 
mitted  to  us  be  read  by  its  title." 

He  smiled  amiably  upon  me  as  he  spoke,  and  for  the  life 
of  me  I  could  not  blame  him  after  the  infliction  of  Grubb's. 
The  president  looked  at  me  inquiringly ;  I  nodded,  and 
smiled  back.  The  motion  was  put  and  carried,  and  I  read 
as  follows :  — 


MY  FAMILY.  353 

"  Some  Particulars  of  the  Family  of  Smudge,  by  Dio- 
nysius  Smudge,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Ethnology  and  the 
Learned  Sciences  in  Mung  Institute,  Vermont." 

The  meeting  adjourned  ;  family  pride  succumbed  to  cir 
cumstances,  and  1  went  home,  to  be  questioned  by  Mrs. 
Smudge,  and  dream  of  a  genealogical  tree  as  large  as  those 
big  trees  in  California.  The  next  morning,  taking  up  rny 
paper,  I  was  surprised  to  see  an  account  of  the  doings  of 
the  society  the  evening  previous.  "  Large  and  enthusias 
tic,'7  "highly  respectable,"  "learned  and  refined,"  .  .  . 
"  among  whom  our  neighbor  Smudge,  whose  modesty  has 
too  long  kept  him  in  the  background,  was  conspicuous, 
who  read  an  eloquent  and  able  paper  upon  the  ancient 
family  lie  represents,  which  sparkled  with  wit,  that  grace 
fully  embellished  the  sound  philosophy  and  profound  re 
search  of  the  production,  the  fine  delivery  of  which  elicited 
unbounded  applause.  Among  those  most  delighted  was 
the  venerable  Dr.  Grubb,  who  waived  the  reading  of  an 
interesting  paper  of  his  own  to  accommodate  his  young 
friend." 

Could  I  be  dreaming  ?  and  did  I  really  "  speak  my 
piece?"  were  questions  I  asked  myself;  but  the  editor 
was  a  truthful  man,  and  would  not  deceive  the  world; 
therefore  I  let  the  world  believe  it.  I  received  many  com 
pliments  on  my  success,  and  the  same  week  had  twenty 
invitations  to  address  kindred  societies  in  different  parts 
of  the  country,  which  I  declined. 

My  family  ambition  increased.  I  nearly  gave  up  busi 
ness  in  order  to  answer  my  letters.  I  relinquished  all  in 
terest  in  the  great  family  of  the  world  to  look  after  my 
individual  portion  of  it.  On  my  return  home  one  evening, 
after  a  hard  day's  work,  I  found  Mrs.  Smudge  in  a  state  of 
undue  excitement.  At  first  I  could  not  tell  whether  she  were 
most  disposed  to  laugh  or  cry.  There  was  no  anger  in  her 
30* 


354  PARTINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

look,  but  it  seemed  as  if  mortification  were  struggling  with 
merriment  in  her  .mind.  She  pointed  to  my  reception- 
room.  As  I  entered  it,  my  e}res  rested  upo"n  a  most  singu 
lar  figure.  It  was  that  of  a  man  of  sixty,  in  a  dress  that 
dated  at  least  forty  years  back  —  short-waisted  coat,  high 
collar,  long  skirts,  puckered  shoulders,  brass  buttons  ;  long 
red  vest,  with  glass  buttons,  single-breasted ;  pants  tight, 
terminating  just  below  the  calf,  gathered  on  the  hips ; 
blue  woollen  stpckings ;  large,  peaked-toed  shoes.  He 
held  a  hat  in  his  hand,  very  tall,  approaching  the  steeple- 
shape,  very  seedy,  with  evident  marks  of  ink,  put  on  to 
hide  the  brown  spots. 

"  Good  evening,  sir,"  the  figure  said,  smiling,  and  extend 
ing  a  large  and  bony  hand  to  me,  which  I  took  instinc 
tively.  "  You  may  not,"  he  continued,  "  guess  who  I  am 
that  thus  intrudes  upon  you ;  but  I  ana  your  relative,  of 
Mung  Institute." 

"  The  deuse  you  are !  "  thought  I ;  but  changed  the  form 
of  the  reply  to,  "  Glad  to  see  you  "  —  a  lie  so  frequently 
uttered,  and  by  so  many,  that  the  virtue  of  it  is  all  lost. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  thought  you  would  be ;  and  so  I 
have  improved  my  vacation  season,  and  come  down  here 
to  aid  you  in  your  researches  into  our  family  history.  We 
must  devote  a  month  to  it.  That  box  you  see  there  "  — 
pointing  to  a  chest  about  three  by  six  —  "  is  full  of  papers 
relating  to  the  subject,  which  I  shall  be  delighted  to  read 
you.  Is  smoking  offensive  to  you  ?  "  — taking  a  pipe  from 
his  pocket,  and  lighting  a  match  on  the  sole  of  his  shoe. 
I  told  him  no,  —  another  lie,  —  and  in  a  moment  more 
the  smoke  ascended  as  a  sacrifice  upon  the  altar  of  my 
Penates,  much  to  my  wife's  merriment  and  disgust,  as  she 
stood  looking  at  us  through  the  crack  in  the  door. 

My  respected  relative  staid  his  month  out,  read  all  his 
papers,  smoked  all  his  tobacco,  and  then  went  back  to 
Vermont,  satisfied  that  he  had  conferred  infinite  benefit 


DEUMMING.  355 

upon  me,  while  I  entertained  the  opinion  that  a  more  in 
fernal  bore  I  had  never  seen  than  my  relative  ;  that  to  em 
ploy  him,  Artesian  wells  might  be  made  very  plenty  in 
Vermont ;  and  that,  if  the  tracing  of  blood  subjected  one 
to  such  annoyances,  it  were  better  to  be  nobody,  with  no 
more  attainment  of  notoriety  than  the  mere  mention  of  an 
obituary  at  the  end. 

The  gathering  of  the  Smudge  family  never  took  place, 
and  the  world  lost  thereby  much  eloquence,  and  poetrjr, 
and  wit ;  and  the  Genealogical  Society  lost  a  member, 
who  felt  that  he  had  not  sufficient  heart  in  the  work  to 
bear  him  on  triumphantly  over  the  sea  of  troubles  that 
lay  in  his  path  in  establishing  the  fact  that  he  had  a  family, 
leaving  that  to  prove  itself  in  the  family  record  and  the 
registry  of  marriages  and  births. 


DRUMMING. 

EVERYBODY  knows  that  mercantile  drumming  is  prac 
tised  in  Boston,  as  well  as  in  other  places.  The  perform 
ers  will  hang  around  the  hotels  for  customers,  and  drum 
like  partridges  to  secure  their  prey.  The  caution  of 
traders  is  excited  by  a  knowledge  of  their  tricks,  who 
either  go  in  to  enjoy  the  music,  or  meet  the  advances  of 
the  drummers  with  a  little  counter  performance  of  their 
own.  The  former  course  was  pursued  by  a  merchant  from 
the  West,  who  came  to  Boston  recently  for  the  first  time. 
He  had  heard  of  the  drummers,  and  of  their  attention  to 
visitors,  —  showing  them  the  lions  about  their  respective 
places,  and  treating  them  like  princes,  —  and  being  en 
dowed  with  a  considerable  capacity  for  a  good  time,  and 
with  not  much  power  of  resistance,  he  thought  he  would, 


356  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCHWORK. 

if  he  fell  in  with  any,  let  them  have  their  own  way.  lie 
accordingly  came,  and  stopped  at  the  American  House, 
where  his  jolly  face  and  laughing  eyes  were  soon  conspic 
uous.  Several  well-dressed  young  men  at  once  attached 
themselves  to  him,  and  commenced  talking  about  the 
West.  "  Drummers,"  thought  the  merchant ;  "  not  a  doubt 
about  it." 

They  were  soon  very  well  acquainted,  and  sipped  a  glass 
of  wine  together,  or  something  stronger,  as  an  oblation  to 
the  new  bond  between  them.  The  stranger  was  surprised 
to  hear  from  them  no  mention  of  business,  and,  after 
warming  up  a  little  with  sundry  more  libations,  he  deter 
mined  to  touch  upon  trade. 

"  How  are  Hamiltons  now  ?  "  said  he,  breaking  the  ice 
by  a  direct  push. 

"  Hamiltons  ! "  replied  one.  "  Oh  !  Hamiltons  are  tip-top 
—  ain't  they,  Bob  ?  " 

"  They  were  the  last  time  I  saw  them,"  responded  Bob. 

They  all  laughed  at  this,  in  which  the  questioner  joined, 
though  he  could  not,  for  the  soul  of  him,  see  what  they 
were  laughing  at. 

"  They  think  I'm  a  little  green,"  thought  he;  "but  let 
them  go  it.  They'll  come  to  business  soon  enough,  I  dare 
say." 

"  How  are  Amoskeags  going?  "  he  asked,  after  a  while. 

"  Well,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  saw  Amos  last  week,  and 
he  looked  as  if  he  was  going  to  the  devil  very  fast  — 
didn't  he,  Bob  ?  " 

Bob  affirmed,  with  an  expression  considerably  emphatic, 
that  he  never  saw  one  going  faster. 

"  Speaking  of  going,"  said  the  principal  spokesman, 
t(  suppose  we  show  you  our  town.  I  should  like  to  have 
you  see  some  of  our  lions." 

It  was  beyond  the  business  part  of  the  day,  and  no  ob 
jection  was  made ;  so  the  party  sallied  out,  the  merchant 


DRUMMING.  357 

making  the  remark  that  it  would  be  time  enough  in  the 
morning  to  look  at  the  Hamiltons.  It  was  a  hard  season 
of  sprouts  that  the  accommodating  drummers  put  him 
through.  He  had  never  seen  better  fellows  in  his  life  ;  but 
they  were  very  mysterious  for  business  men.  Several 
times  in  the  course  of  their  ramble  he  ventured  to  put  in 
some  word  about  cottons ;  but  they,  with  a^  laugh  that  he 
joined  in,  asked  him  how  whiskey  was  going  at  the  West, 
and  when  he  said  the  tendency  was  downward,  they 
laughed  the  louder.  He  mentioned  shoes ;  but  he  found 
that  this  also  was  bootless.  At  last  he  let  the  boys  have 
their  own  way,  and  shut  his  mind  against  business,  going 
in  for  the  fun  of  the  thing.  The  day  closed  in  a  very  af 
fectionate  manner,  the  parties  separating  about  midnight, 
mutually  satisfied. 

As  for  the  drummers,  they  carried  their  mysterious  man 
ner  throughout,  and  to  his  last  remark  about  Hamiltons,  as 
they  bade  him  good  night,  a  reply  was  made  that  to  his 
confused  hearing  sounded  somewhat  like  "  Pickles  !  " 

"Good  fellows!"  he  thought.  "They'll  be  round  in 
the  morning,  I  dare  say." 

Turning  to  the  man  in  the  office,  he  asked  him  what 
house  those  gentlemen  who  had  been  with  him  drummed  for. 

"  Drum  for  ?  "  replied  the  clerk,  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  Yes,  drum  for,"  said  the  inquirer,  a  little  indignant  at 
having  his  question  repeated. 

"They  are  not  drummers,"  replied  the  clerk,  bowing 
politely,  "  but  students  of  Harvard  College." 

"  The  deuse  they  are ! "  exclaimed  the  seeker  after 
Hamiltons  and  Amoskeags.  "  Then  I've  been  confound 
edly  sold  —  that's  all." 

He  booked  himself  to  be  called  early,  and  the  next 
morning  started  for  New  York  without  making  a  purchase, 
not  caring  to  meet  again  with  his  friends,  the  drummers. 


358  PAETINGTONIAN  PATCIIWOEK. 


PREACHING  TO  THE  POOR. 

Father    Taylor    once    said,   "  'Tis  of    no  use  to    preach   to  empty 

stomachs." 

^ 

THE  parson  preached  in  solemn  way, 

—  A  well-clad  man  on  ample  pay,  — 

And  told  the  poor  they  were  sinners  all, 

Depraved  and  lost  by  Adam's  fall ; 

That  they  must  repent,  and  save  their  souls. 

A  hollow-eyed  wretch  cried,  "  Give  us  coals  !  " 

Then  he  told  of  virtue's  pleasant  path, 

And  that  of  ruin  and  of  wrath ; 

How  the  slipping  feet  of  sinners  fell 

Quick  on  the  downward  road  to  h — , 

To  suffer  for  sins  when  they  are  dead ; 

And  the  hollow  voice  answered,  "  Give  us  bread  I " 

Then  he  spoke  of  a  land  of  love  and  peace, 

Where  all  of  pain  and  woe  shall  cease, 

Where  celestial  flowers  bloom  by  the  way, 

Where  the  light  is  brighter  than  solar  day, 

And  there's  no  cold  nor  hunger  there. 

"  Oh,"  says  the  voice,  "  Give  us  clothes  to  wear  !  " 

Then  the  good  man  sighed,  and  turned  away, 

For  such  depravity  to  pray, 

That  had  cast  aside  the  heavenly  worth 

For  the  transient  and  fleeting  things  of  earth ! 

And  his  church  that  night,  to  his  content, 

liaised  his  salary  fifty  per  cent. 


THE   COURTS.  359 


THE  COURTS. 

THE  courts  are  great  institutions.  We  always  take  our 
hats  off  in  a  court-room,  partly  from  reverence  for  the  law, 
partly  from  respect  for  the  custom  of  the  place,  and  partly 
from  fear  of  having  it  knocked  from  our  own  poll  by  the 
pole  of  a  constable.  What  a  dignity  —  awful  and  sub 
lime —  seems  embodied  in  the  justice  who  figures  in  the 
reports  as  the  alphabetical  and  familiar  "  J."  We  hear 
him  addressed  "  yer  honor/7  and  the  spirit  prostrates  itself 
before  the  exponent  of  stern  justice,  while  fancy  draws  an 
imaginary  sword  and  a  pair  of  huge  scales  in  his  hand  — 
the  latter  of  which  are  to  be  used  in  weighing  the  exactest 
awards,  and  the  former  to  cut  off  from  the  side  on  which 
the  surplusage  remains,  as  a  butcher  would  divide  a  piece 
of  beef,  or  a  grocer  divide  a  cheese.  We  cannot  divest* 
ourselves  of  the  idea  that  we  have  seen  his  honor  eating 
a  hearty  dinner  at  Parker's,  laughing  like  he'd  die  at  a 
funny  joke,  and  telling  many  himself  with  infinite  gusto ; 
"  dipping  his  nose  in  the  Gascon  wine "  with  stupendous 
relish,  as  though  he  were  an  excellent  judge  of  such 
things.  The  judicial  ermine  becomes  in  the  light  of 
reality  a  genteel  black  coat,  and  the  conventional  sword 
and  scales  fade  away  like  mystic  things-  seen  in  dreams. 
What  a  subject  for  contemplation  is  the  jury  —  that  "pal 
ladium  of  our  liberty,"  as  some  one  has  called  it  —  which 
stands  between  the  law  and  trembling  rascality,  in  digni 
fied  impartiality  to  listen  to  the  evidence,  the  pleadings, 
and  the  charge,  and  remember  enough  of  the  combined 
stupidity,  if  they  are  capable  of  remembering  it,  to  say 
which  side  shall  win. 


SCO  PARTINGTONIAN   PATCHWORK. 

We  love  to  look  upon  those  devoted  conscripts  of  the 
state  with  their  minds  made  up  to  one .  point  before  they 
begin,  that  they  are  bored.  The  sheriff's  wand  and  the 
sword,  that  fearful  implement,  ready  to  impale  any  one 
who  may  transgress,  are  fearful  things  to  contemplate,  and 
we  turn  to  listen  to  the  oath  so  solemnly  administered  to 
the  trembling  witnesses,  who  hold  up  their  right  hands  and 
bow  when  the  sound  of  the  clerk's  voice  has  ceased,  just 
as  if  they  had  understood  what  he  said.  But  a  sublime 
spectacle  to  be  met  with  in  court  is  the  examination  of 
witnesses  in  order  to  arrive  at  the  truth  of  a  case.  Had 
this  not  been  so  faithfully  described  in  the  report  of  the 
case  of  Bardell  vs.  Pickwick,  it  would  be  well  to  speak  of 
it  at  this  time.  Of  course  every  one  who  goes  on  the  stand 
is  a  conspirator  on  one  side  or  the  other,  and  is  disposed 
—  so  great  is  the  depravity  of  the  human  heart  —  to  lie ; 
hence  it  is  necessary  for  counsellors,  who  are  dear  lovers 
of  the  truth,  to  browbeat  and  harass  them  by  a  thousand 
impertinent  questions,  in  order  to  worry  the  scoundrels 
into  truthfulness  by  making  what  they  say  sound  as  little 
like  the  truth  as.  possible.  A  man  goes  upon  the  stand 
with  an  idea  that  he  is,  like  Hamlet,  indifferent  honest ; 
but  leaves  it  with  a  strong  impression  that  he  combines  in 
himself  the  qualities  of  all  the  great  liars  that  ever  lived, 
from  Ananias  to  Munch ausen,  has  robbed  a  graveyard, 
passed  counterfeit  money,  spent  ten  years  in  state  prison, 
and  deserves  to  go  there  again.  Great  is  Justice,  and  her 
courts  are  sacred.  We  take  our  shoes  off,  figuratively,  in 
reverence,  and  move  out,  shutting  the  door  quickly,  lest 
any  of  the  atmosphere  of  the  precinct  be  displaced  by  the 
obtrusion  of  unsanctified  air. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


LD  21-100m-6,'56 
(B9311slO)476 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


M57377 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


